To All Things There Is A Season
by MotherHeninFlorida
Summary: The Black Swan Theory is a metaphor that describes a disastrous event that comes as a surprise, has a major effect, and is often inappropriately rationalized after the fact. As Taleb explains in his book, "black swans" come in all shapes and sizes; some are personal, some local or regional, and a very few affect the entire world. What happens when you get with all of them?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** _Black swans. Did you know that once upon a time people didn't believe they existed? They were supposedly a fable, a legend, a creature that only existed in fairy tales ... then they were "discovered" and found to actually exist. A **black swan event** is an unpredictable, rare, but nevertheless high impact event. In the study of logic, a black swan fallacy is an inductive fallacy that states that if something has not occurred within the speaker's experience, it cannot occur. The problem with thinking like that is that black swans still exist no matter how hard, fast, or often their existence is denied._

 _To All Things There Is A Season_ _is an examination of "black swans." A young woman slowly and methodically has her rose-colored glasses removed, sometimes forcibly and how this changes her, how she addresses each new situation she finds herself in, and ultimately how she survives. Each part that is posted will be much longer than your traditional chapter structure most stories have. Because of this there will be at least one week between each addition._

* * *

 **Part One: How Did I Get Here When I Started There?**

Where to begin? That's a million-dollar question right there. In the last two years my life has been turned upside down. Everything has moved so fast that I never even bothered to sit down and try and make sense of it. Until now.

One of those annoying philosophical questions that occasionally occurs to me is "Who am I?" I hate those stupid questions, they tend to take all the quiet and self-assurance away that I've managed to build since the last time it came up.

If I had to pick a word to describe how my life used to be it would be "normal." I wasn't from a broken home. I never had some tragic occurrence scar me for life. As a matter of fact I was the much loved and much waited for child. My mother called me a miracle and my dad called me his little darling. My Mom was forty when I was born and Dad forty-five; they'd given up having any biological children and didn't have the financial resources to afford adoption so they did a lot of volunteer work only suddenly there I was when they least expected it; Momma was five months along before they even realized she was pregnant.

I'm an only child but not of the spoiled variety; my parents kept me pretty well grounded. My name is Leah Helainna Hambrick. Don't ask me to explain my middle name; it was some wild hare that my parents came up with by putting together Helen and Alainna which were the two names they were trying to choose between. My middle name was probably the only wild hare my parents ever had if you want to know the truth. I loved them both and appreciated them for who they were but my friends all thought they were old and stodgy.

Contrary to many stories of single, late in life babies I had a really fun home life, just not what my peers were used to. My life was very traditional with strong role models in both my parents. My mom taught me the art of homemaking from the time I could stand on a chair and stir the pot. My dad taught me to be mechanically inclined and how to fix most everything, including changing my own oil and brakes when it was needed. We went camping, hunting, and fishing together as a family. As a matter of fact we did most everything together as a family. Divorce was never a word I even heard muttered in my home.

By the time I went to a public highschool I was so painfully normal I began to resent all of the attention that my peers were receiving for their seemingly endless supply of problems and angst … both real and imagined. Daddy quickly tired of my decent into adolescent idiocy and sat me down one day to explain how my friends were wasting their God-given lives on that sort of foolishness and then went on to tell me I had a choice to make. Was I going to flop around thinking I was a fish out of water or was I going to expend my life's energy swimming upstream in order to fulfill God's plan for my life? Put like that my friends started looking pretty silly and it was like being the only sober person at a wild frat kegger. I got over myself in fairly short order and got on with my life.

The only part of the idiocy I couldn't seem to give up was my highschool sweetheart. Hank was a "great catch" when we were in highschool. Later … well, not so much as I was to find out the hard way.

Other than my parents' occasional homespun homilies, I had a normal education that was supplemented with a rich home life, church life, and with extracurricular activities supporting the goal of producing a well-rounded child. I graduated with honors from highschool, continued to live at home while I went to college, and graduated with a double major … a BSS in Social Science Education and a BS in History. I was all hot to make history come to life as a Highschool teacher. Yeah right.

Daddy tried to warn me. He said that he hadn't thought much of a lot of the kids I went to school with and didn't see that the latest crop were any better. Momma tried to warn me. She had been a teacher's aide for 19 years before forced to take early retirement when she got pregnant with me as well as other health issues. My favorite professor tried to warn me by saying that I was too pretty and innocent and that I would be better off in Early Education until the new got rubbed off of me. I didn't listen; I was too full of idealism and dreams.

My internship should have awoken my sense of self-preservation if nothing else had, but it didn't. The kids were rotten, the school was over crowded, the equipment was archaic … but I loved it. And my dad hated it. I was 21 years old and still living at home; still Daddy's little princess. I graduated with honors so finding a job hadn't been as hard as it might have otherwise been, especially as I was willing to take a job at an "under-performing" school. By that time Dad was fully retired but the pension wasn't enough to pay the bills so he made knives and did a lot of woodwork and carpentry that he sold on Ebay, at gun shows, and at craft fairs. Momma took in sewing and made her own items for the craft fairs. We weren't rich, but they managed to put a little in savings every month.

And then I was 22 years old and still living at home; but at least I was gainfully employed. And the few students that I could catch the attention of seemed to love me. And I loved them. I really did. The few awakening minds made up for all of the rotten stuff to the point I barely paid attention to it. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I was meant to be a teacher and I was meant to be a teacher right where I was. Or so I thought.

Like for all things in life there is a season. And that job was just the first change of season I was to experience. An extreme shortfall in the school district's budget meant cuts … big cuts. And as one of the newest teachers at one of the worst schools in the district my job was one of the first to go. I wasn't as loved as I had thought I was. No one even came to say goodbye as I carried my boxes of classroom stuff out to my car. Not even my favorite students. I was more disappointed than I had any right to be.

I came home with my pink slip completely shocked. I … honestly I don't know what I thought but what I felt was betrayed. I was really in a funk for about a week and then Dad and Mom were there, with grave commonsense told me that life goes on, and helped me to pick up the pieces. But Dad's retirement didn't go far and they had come to count on the "rent" I paid them every month. At least I had been smart enough to save most of my first year's salary rather than spending it on a new car and other fripperies. But I needed a new job and I needed one badly.

Here again though life seemed to be intervening in my personal plans. The school district wasn't hiring. None of the school districts within driving distance were hiring. As a matter of fact there was a hiring freeze in the school system statewide. I went to the private schools – not hiring. I went to the day care centers – not hiring. The economy was very bad and property taxes had plummeted for three straight years in a row; so did all the other revenue generating taxes. After two months of looking, and after overhearing my parents discuss how concerned they were about making all of their obligations as the cost of their medications went up yet again, I decided it was time to broaden my job search outside of education and child care.

One of my friends from highschool had become part owner in a family owned and operated housekeeping business. Her grandmother had started it in the 70s during that recession and had kept it running all of these years. Even with the cutbacks their customer base was still strong. I told Bea I would do anything just to bring in some money.

"Are you positive?"

"Oh yeah. I can't keep living on my parents' dime."

"I thought you and Hank were getting serious about setting a date. Doesn't his dad own that import-export business?"

"Were is the appropriate word."

"Oh no. Not again."

"Oh yeah. Again. Forgiving is one thing. Being a fool for the third time is another."

"Same old reason?"

"Same old song. I told him no ring and ceremony, no canoodling. He wasn't ready to settle down but he wanted all the fringe benefits that go along with it."

"Did you know this one?"

"Sheryl Balducci."

"Sheryl … are you serious? She has eight brothers. And they're Italian."

"How do you think I found out about it? I get a call from one of the guys as I'm driving home that there has been an 'accident' at work and that Hank couldn't pick me up for our date that night. So of course I go tearing over to the hospital all upset. Thank the Lord I managed to stop myself from calling my parents. Daddy would have done more damage than Sheryl's brothers did. Last I heard there was a rush-hush marriage and that Sheryl is due in about four more months."

"Oh … my … gosh. Get out o' here! Girl …"

"Like Daddy said, 'Good riddance to bad rubbish.' I'm just sorry it took this long for me to see the light. At least my parents never say I told you so."

"Honey, considering they've put up with the guy since we were in highschool you're lucky your parents didn't throw a party and take out a full page ad."

Not ready for one of Bea's lectures on my poor taste in men I said," So … do you think you can hook me up? With a job I mean. Full time, part time, even a few hours every other week … I just need to bring in some money before I use up all my savings, give me more time to find something in my field."

Bea hemmed and hawed and I could tell she was debating something. "Look, we have this customer but he is a hard case. Real demanding. He's a bachelor; likes the hired help to take care of things so that he can't see they are taking care of things if you know what I mean. When he says how he wants something done he wants it done that way exactly, but if he hasn't said he doesn't want to be bothered with questions. I don't know what the problem is but we are on the third girl with him in as many months and the latest one came in today and said she is quitting, that he is a pain to work for and asking for too much."

At that point I would have worked for Attila the Hun and said please and thank you for the job. But talk about weird. It was three months before I even met my boss. I had a key, went in, did the work to specs, and left. It was one of the easiest jobs I'd ever had. I never understood what the problem was. I had regularly scheduled chores and then he'd leave a note on the dining room table about once or twice a week that he needed something specific. Do the work, check it off the list, and if there were special instructions because something else was needed and it was completed the way he wanted it to be there was always a little something extra in the pay envelope. It was a cakewalk compared to trying to teach six periods of forty highschool students each on a daily basis and then deal with all the take home work and bureaucratic nonsense on top of it. Bea and her mom were pleased because that was the longest anyone had ever lasted, took me off my 90-day probation and I signed up for the simple health insurance plan but took care of my own savings plan with what little was left over by the time I paid my living expenses and gave my parents something in appreciation for their years of sacrifice for me.

The only thing I knew about my boss to begin with was that he was in his mid-thirties, some kind of investment counselor that made pretty good money dealing in very conservative portfolios (Bea's mother did her retirement funds through him), and that he could be very particular about what he wanted and didn't want.

During this time my Dad had what everyone thought was the flu but it turned out that it was a recurrence of pericarditis like he had had before I was born. He got well but it took time. Mom mentioned that he was stressed out that his daughter was cleaning houses for a living. I finally sat down and told Dad that I was cleaning houses because he set the example that any job worth doing was worth doing well, regardless of what that job was. And that I didn't plan on cleaning houses for the rest of my life but that right now that is what there was and it was better than no paycheck. He still wasn't happy but he understood and I guess I grew up a little bit in his eyes that day.

The day I finally met the boss was not a good one for him. I was folding the linens like I always did on Fridays when in through the front door stumbles a man that looked like he was just about to let loose until he spotted me. He cursed under his breath and said, "I … you need to leave."

"Excuse me sir but until my employer …"

"I'm him … I mean I'm he … your employ … er. Look, you just … there was an accident. I … I don't know what to do with a baby. I …"

Long story short, I was meeting Mr. Jakob for the first time. He was so distraught because he'd been at the hospital all night and most of the day. His older sister, brother in law, and their daughter were killed in a car accident on their way home from Disney World. The baby was his sister's granddaughter and he was now her guardian since the child's father abdicated responsibility before little Nydia was even born.

I got the baby out of the car and brought her inside and did what I could while my boss tried to pull himself together and make a few phone calls. I'd grown up babysitting the neighborhood kids and working in the nursery at church so it wasn't a chore.

"Could … could you stay a little longer today? I have to … the arrangements … I have to …"

"Of course."

The baby didn't have anything but what was in the diaper bag … a little bit of powdered formula, three diapers, and a small package of diaper wipes. I called Mom, explained the situation to her and she and a couple of the ladies from church brought enough stuff over to last Nydia through the weekend. They also made sure that there were enough casseroles to choke a horse in the freezer. There was even a Jell-O mold from old Mrs. Norvicci. I asked Dad if I could borrow one of the handmade cradles that he sold until my boss could figure out what all the baby had.

was pretty well blown away. It was a long time before I knew exactly what he made of the speed that things moved that day. But that's how I went from being a part-time housekeeper to a full-time housekeeper and nanny during the day.

The paycheck was bigger and I appreciated it but it sure didn't hurt that Nydia was a cute little stinker. Occasionally I would even watch her on the weekends when the boss had business he had to attend to and the night time nanny couldn't fill in. The night nanny was named Carmen and was actually some relation to Nydia's biological father. I didn't care for her very much but she took care of Nydia like she was her own so I never let my dislike of her show. I can't say the same for the reverse. It was détente and that is about the best I can say of our working relationship.

Things were going along fine for a while and then the season began to change yet again. The economy was not improving; in fact it was getting quite a bit worse. My parents had to work three times as many craft fairs to bring in the same amount of money and then the government started taxing every little thing they could which hurt people in my parents age bracket especially hard. Sales tax went up, various users' taxes and fees went up, and tax deductions were quickly disappearing. It got to where if the state or federal governments owed you money you were put on long waiting lists and it took months (up to 12 in some instances) before the check was cut and the news had even reported that a few of those checks were getting kicked back for insufficient funds.

The world economy wasn't doing much better. The US was the consumer nation that a lot of the developing countries counted on to grease their economic wheels. As the US began to cut back international trade and began to charge tariffs on most imports whatever cancer was eating at us began to metastasize and spread to the rest of the world.

Strange how the term cancer entered my mind because one morning while I was at work, listening to one of the conservative radio broadcasts on WFLA radio, Daddy called and said Momma had collapsed while she was working in the church library. She'd been rushed to the hospital and that I needed to come right away. I couldn't get in touch with Mr. Jakob and was forced to leave a message with his secretary. I took Nydia with me and despite everything conspiring against me was at the hospital in record time.

One of the reasons why I was such a late-in-life baby for my parents was because my mom had a history of female problems. They would come and go over the years and generally correct themselves. Mom rarely went to the doctor anymore because they always told her the same thing, tried the same remedies, and it was always just a matter of time before things cleared up. The last couple of years she hadn't gone at all. One, she figured she was too old to need an OB/Gyn check up and two, the expense was something to be avoided. Only this time it wasn't cysts or a hormonal imbalance; it was cancer … and she was eaten up with it. It had spread to so many major organs that there was absolutely no chance. The doctors weren't talking weeks or months at that point, they weren't even talking days; it was a matter of hours and minutes in their opinion.

My dad was completely devastated. I was doing my best to get information from the oncologist and we had stepped outside for some privacy. Dad was sitting with my mom and had closed his eyes. The nurse came in, asked him a question and when he didn't respond … he'd had a massive heart attack. The pericarditis had done a lot more damage than we had known. The grief over my mom was just too much for his heart, he'd closed his eyes and was just gone in the few moments it had taken me to leave the room. It was ironic that Daddy passed before Momma did but Mom never knew – or maybe she did because she never regained consciousness either, didn't even try.

I was holding Nydia and trying not to cry while they wheeled both my parents from the last room they would ever share together. That's when Mr. Jakob showed up … with Carmen. One of the few things I can say about Carmen is that she was kind that day when I needed her to be kind. The next couple of weeks passed in a blur. The only thing that helped me to keep my head above water was my job and the fact that I knew what my parents would have expected of me under those circumstances.

During the day I kept house for the boss, took care of Nydia, and at night I would go home to my parents' lonely and empty house to slowly box things up that I wasn't donating to charity. All of my parents' siblings had died when I was a kid. They were late in life babies themselves and all of my cousins were more than a decade older than me and we weren't close. I was all alone and facing a ton of decisions that I had to make in very short order. But every item I picked up had a story behind it that I had to take the time to remember. The memories slowed me down more than I should have let them.

I couldn't afford to keep the house. Because the housing market was so bad I had to let it go for about half what it would have gotten a few years earlier; it wasn't even to someone who was going to live in it but to some type of investor who planned to rent the place out. The mortgage had nearly been paid off so that wasn't a problem but it was still very sad for me. I had considered keeping it and renting rooms out myself but the taxes, insurance, and utility bills would have made that a losing proposition. I also had to find a way to pay for the funerals and burials because Daddy's life insurance had only been designed to cover his … and I was burying both my parents.

Mr. Jakob took enough interest in my welfare that he helped me with some of the estate arrangements. He didn't see it as any big deal because it was what he did day in and day out. On the other hand I thought it was a huge deal and one day I got the opportunity to tell him so.

"Don't read into it something that isn't there Miss Hambrick. I knew there would come a day when I would get to repay you for what you did for me the day my sister died. I'm sorry it is under these circumstances but I consider it a debt repaid."

I told him I appreciated it anyway regardless of his motivations. That's when he approached me with the fact that Carmen had decided to move back to Costa Rica to be with her widowed sister who needed her. That meant that he had exactly two weeks to find, interview, and hire a night time nanny for Nydia.

"But I have an idea that I would like you to give serious consideration. You have to be out of that house in a week when the new owner wants to move in his tenants . You haven't been able to find another place to live yet that is in your price range. Nydia really needs a full time nanny and I need someone that I can trust her with on the weekends as well. I would like you to consider moving in here – you would have the suite next to the nursery - as Nydia's full time nanny."

Now that was definitely something that I had never considered. But I prayed about it and it felt all too providential. Almost so much so that I began to second guess myself on the wisdom of accepting his offer. But accept it I did and life continued on. So many doors were slamming shut in my face that the unexpected window opening looked like a mirage until I walked up and actually stuck my hand through it.

Momma and Daddy's stuff that I kept was put in storage except for what I brought with me for my own use. That was another thing that Mr. Jakob had to help me with. So many places would only do business with you if you had a credit card and I'd never gotten one. I'd never needed one and my dad was always on about the evils of being indebted to others. Problem was that now that I was on my own I actually needed one of those evil little boogers but no one would approve me. Mr. Jakob put the storage facility in his name, paid for it, and then took the monthly fee out of my paycheck. Some people may have thought the boss was cold and unemotional but the reality was that he was extremely private and cautious. I still didn't know a lot about my boss but the longer I worked for him the more I realized that he was not cold, simply restrained in his dealings with others.

Once I accepted the new position my responsibilities around the boss's place increased exponentially. My pay increased but since it included room and board, it didn't show quite as much. With fewer expenses I was able to continue to save my money and add it to the nest egg I had been building. The boss advised me to take what little was realized from selling my parents' home, cars, and all but a few pieces of furniture and split it between various investments and in just three months I was realizing a profit that increased my nest egg. It felt like blood money but at the same time my parents worked hard to get where they had been, a vast improvement over the poverty of their childhoods, and I wanted to continue that if I could. Not because I disliked where I came from but because I think it is a natural inclination in the human spirit to strive for more.

It took a little getting used to living under Mr. Jakob's roof on a full time basis. It was also enlightening. He is an extremely private man and I realized he never brought guests over to the house. Any socializing he did was at restaurants or similar places. He asked that I didn't entertain my boyfriend at his home and I had to laugh and ask if he had seen one hanging around recently. He looked at me and asked a rather personal question about my leanings and I told him that it was none of his business. He replied yes it was since I was taking care of his niece and living in his home. I conceded that point and told him that I was a bit turned off by the dating scene after the breakup of a long-time relationship that didn't end well and that he was unlikely to have to worry about me bringing anyone into his home anytime in the near future. And the way I was feeling at the time probably not in the far future either. All he did was snort in disbelief at the last statement and tell me that young, pretty girls always were thinking about weddings and such. I told him that he obviously didn't have many dealings with young women my age then. His rather rude response to that was, "Thank God."

Mr. Jakob did make a concession that I was quite grateful for. During the time that I had been working for him whenever my church had a children's activity that was age appropriate, he had no problem with me taking Nydia. My parents had met her on numerous occasions that way and strangely that brought me comfort. But now that I was working as a full time nanny I needed some flexibility if I was to maintain any of my old life. I approached the boss and he agreed, so long as I worked whatever class she was in, which was fine because I worked in the nursery anyway on most Sundays.

This past year was a perfect storm … literally. It was 2005 all over again with eight named storms hitting Florida shores, five of them major hurricanes. Worse, one those – a Cat 5 named Dorian barreled into St. Petersburg from the south driving waters from the Bay further into Tampa than they had in generations.

After the first storm of the season hit just north of Tampa Bay the boss came to me and said, "You know what to do for hurricane preparation?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, here's a book. Read it. Study it. Go through the house and make an inventory using the appendix in the back. Whatever we are short of I want you to purchase over the next week. Anything costing over a hundred dollars for a single item, come to me first. Use the house funds and I'll replenish it as needed. Keep your receipts … and key them in every day. I'll be checking daily to see your progress. I want to meet in a week and have this accomplished before prices start skyrocketing."

That was a pretty good example of our working relationship. He made his wishes known but gave me some leeway to accomplish them, but there was always oversight and follow up … and often money was the root of his reasons. I didn't mind that at all however. My parents had been pretty budget conscious and had raised me to be the same. One day the boss was complaining about the cost of the food bill and when he broke it down found most of the problem lay in the fact that he ate out … a lot. I asked him if he wanted me to start packing him lunch. Mr. Jakob, penny pincher though he was, hesitated. He had a certain reputation that he had to maintain as a VP at his firm. He decided to give it a week but the week passed and he never said to stop. Every so often he would come home with his lunch uneaten but not often, and when he did he just ate it for dinner instead.

About a month into the experiment I asked him if he wanted me to continue and heard one of the few laughs out of him that I had ever gotten. "Are you kidding? Most of the office thinks I'm having my lunch catered," he laughed. "I've had more than a few of them try to weasel the name of my personal chef out of me and how much he costs."

That's another thing the boss likes to do. He isn't cheap exactly but if he can do something for a lot less money and still look like he is spending money hand over fist he gets a real kick out of it. He isn't a Scrooge McDuck but he is fond of keeping his money in his pocket. The economizing however needs to make sense. For instance, I do most of the laundry and I could do his suits and shirts right down to the medium starch that he prefers but he doesn't consider that the best use of my time so the suits and shirts go to the dry cleaner. I do however, clean and press his ties since it costs quite a bit to have them cleaned by hand.

Once I started working exclusively for the boss he'd paid a bonus to Bea and her mother and set up my payroll including deductions and everything else through the same accounting firm that his office used. Bea couldn't believe how much I actually did for the man that didn't technically fall under the job description of housekeeper and nanny. It was far away from what I had spent four years in college to do but on the other hand I had that feeling, just like when I had been teaching, I was where I was supposed to be. And Nydia was adorable. I watched her go from this little peanut that was barely rolling over to crawling and then creeping by holding on to the furniture. That was fun, trying to explain "baby-proofing" to the boss; one urped in briefcase however did the trick. She was talking now as well, she called the boss "Papa" and she called me "Nonny" … her way of saying nanny I supposed.

"Girl, you better be careful. You are getting drawn in. What was the first thing we taught you?"

"Not to get personally involved in our client's life. I know Bea, but it's a little different now."

"All I gotta say is you better watch out. The first time he makes a move on you, cute kid or not, you quit that place. You are too trusting. Lord knows what you'll let yourself get involved in."

I wanted to laugh at her concerns but I didn't because I know she meant well. Truth was I wondered if the boss even realized that I was a person of the female persuasion. I mean, of course he did but at the same time it didn't seem to make a difference. It had taken months but Carmen finally filled me in on the fact that the boss was in love with his boss' daughter. Rachel Lozaro was smart, beautiful, poised, and popular and appeared to enjoy the boss' attention quite a bit but she was the daughter of the President of the company and he wanted as much as he could get for her.

I met the famous Rachel for the first time at a company picnic. She was smart, beautiful, poised, and popular as promised. She was also spoiled and a little on the snotty side. She didn't take any interest in Nydia at all and actually seemed to resent our presence. She sent one of her BFFs over to ask me to try and keep out of sight so that her father didn't start asking too many questions. I wondered what kind of questions she was worried about but it wasn't my place to wonder so sat on a blanket under a tree and out of foot traffic.

After about an hour of this an older, distinguished gentleman … Mr. Lazaro himself … came over and struck up a conversation with me. Basically the old coot was getting nosy and wanted to know what kind of boss Mr. Jakob was. So I told him the truth. "He's very conscientious and determined to fulfill his responsibilities."

"And … you are satisfied with your current position? Surely a lovely young woman can't be satisfied playing nursemaid to another man's child."

"Actually sir, I have a degree in education. And as you must know Nydia is my boss' niece, not his biological daughter. I enjoy my work and this is a perfect position for me at this time."

"Oh, I understood you were just the housekeeper."

Grrr. Not only was he getting nosy, he was being insufferably presumptuous and rude.

"My duties defy a sinlge job title Mr. Lazaro. I'm sure that you've met many administrative assistants whose job description didn't exactly cover all that they did in their actual position."

"Hmmm. My sister-in-law is a professor out at USF." The sister-in-law wandered up and low and behold if it wasn't my favorite professor that had supervised my honor's thesis. Mr. Lazaro was quite chagrined to find out that I had been telling the truth about my training and how qualified I actually was. He wandered away rather grumpily while I and several other women talked about the state of the schools these days and most of them told me I was well out of it and lucky to have a job as many of their teacher friends and the latest crop of graduates were finding it difficult to find anything in their field.

The boss apparently got an earful after the company picnic from Rachel but it had the opposite affect that I would have expected of a man hopelessly devoted. As a matter of fact I witnessed a side of the boss I'd never seen. I'd never seen him get angry. So much for Mr. Roboto; the last thing he turned out to be was cold and unemotional. Turned out he was intentionally restrained because he knew what he was capable of.

"Do … not … ever … let those people talk to you like that again. I'm no liberal social do-gooder but I can't stand their type of class snobbery. And who would I get to replace you if they put a bug in your ear about looking for a different job?!"

Ah, so that was it. Actually I didn't mind that his motives were a little selfish; it made them more comprehensible. What I wasn't going to tell the boss was that it was going to take more than a few verbal crowbars to get me to leave my position. Things were rough out there. I would have to say at least 75% of the people that I had graduated with had moved back home with their parents because they had been unable to find work or found work in their field only to lose it as the economy slowed even further. I'm glad I got off my high horse when I did because it was hard to even find a fast food job these days. As a matter of fact a friend who works at The Olive Garden restaurant said that when they had a waiter position come open – part time position no less – they had over 500 applicants for it and had to shut down accepting new applicants after two days. And when people came to apply for the job only to find the application process closed they got angry, and some turned violent, like they had nothing to lose. That was scary.

Another day I took Nydia for a push in her stroller around the university campus and I can't tell you how weird it felt. I overheard a lot of people saying that they were going to take a semester off because they needed to save the money up to pay for classes. There was a fight near the Student Services building between two guys that had spotted the same "help wanted" advertisement and one had ripped it off of the board. The other objected to that. Then another guy came along and said, "Dudes, don't blow the steroids. That flyer is over a day old, they've already filled the position by now." Things really were getting frighteningly tough out there.

Since I did the grocery shopping I knew that it wasn't just the lack of a job that was causing problems, it was the prices of goods going up. At one of our weekly "business meetings" I asked the boss if he had a problem with me changing things up a little bit to try and save money. He asked me to explain and I told him that my parents and I had always shopped the flea market produce stands as well as the big Produce Station to pick up fresh foods and then can and freeze them ourselves. The initial outlay was more expensive but then you just reached into the frig or freezer the rest of the season for the item that you wanted. Even better prices could be had by going to the U-Pick farms.

The boss gave me a really strange look. "Leah, don't take this wrong … because I realize you said that your parents did things this way … but I do not like the idea of you picking vegetables out in the field like a migrant worker, especially when I can afford the grocery store prices. And what would you do with Nydia while you were … out in the field?"

I pulled out my receipt book that I used to compare local prices. I told him I'd already started using the bread machine more because a loaf of good bread was almost four dollars a loaf. Even the cheapest sandwich bread was over two dollars a loaf. I went on to show him how all of the staple goods had gone up.

"Well, then why haven't I seen this dramatic increase in the receipts you are keying in?"

"Because you only see the bottom line; there are a few items that I am able to get on sale right now that make the difference less noticeable. Beef and chicken are way down and I've been stocking up when I see a really good discount. Ranchers are selling a lot of their stock because feed has gotten so expensive and because people are cutting back at the grocery store."

"Hmm … lower demand, lower prices; overstock, lower prices. All right, so tell me more."

I showed him a plan that I had worked out, what the potential savings were over what I was currently spending on groceries. He was impressed but still not convinced.

"That's all well and good but I see the upfront costs of the equipment being a problem and eating up any savings. The cost of a large freezer for one would eat up most of the savings you have on this line of your budget."

"Not a problem. I'll just use my parents' canning equipment. I already use Momma's dehydrator to make the fixings for Nydia's baby food since she won't eat the stuff out of the jars."

"That's because you've spoiled her by grinding up table food."

"Eh, the pediatrician said it was OK and it doesn't hurt my feelings any not to have to deal with those stupid little containers. I know everyone thinks they are convenient but they are expensive and I hate throwing away part of a jar when she refuses to eat it. Her formula already takes a huge chunk out of the food budget and the stuff isn't getting any cheaper."

"All well and good but what is this? Rings and jars?"

"Like I said, I've got plenty of jars in storage along with some rings and seals. You buy a case of seals and a few dozen new rings from Ebay and I'll provide the rest. We'll beat the competition hands down."

He laughed, "You really view this as a competition?"

"It's the way my mother was. She said that when she could save money it was like she had won a prize. My parents came from what today would be considered extreme poverty. But they always had food to eat because of their families' gardens. In other words they were poor but never really knew it because they had the most important elements covered – shelter, food, and good drinking water. The rest was 'use up, make do, or do without' and they continued those habits as adults. Or at least they did after a brief foray into living like the other guy. My dad said once he'd paid off those bills he was never going into debt like that again. It took all of my parents' imagination and innovativeness to get them clear of what they'd managed to get themselves into in just three years. That was before I was born but the way Dad always told it they had everything that their money could buy but they were more miserable than they'd ever been in their entire lives. Getting out from under that debt was one of the most liberating things they ever did."

"Assuming I agree with your plan with the budget providing the produce and you providing the equipment and knowledge … what about the labor. That sounds like a great deal of energy to expend when you can just go to a store and pick something up. And what would you do with Nydia during this time. I don't want her care to be compromised to save a few pennies."

"First, I'd never compromise Nydia's care; she will remain my primary focus. Second, we are talking about more than just a few pennies; more like hundreds of dollars, maybe more, over any given year depending on how much of the menu we transfer to home preserved pantry items. For the rest, if I worked in an office setting like you or even in the classroom like I used to the time commitment would be problematic but there are evenings and weekends and if I was still teaching I would have the whole summer. And if you need further proof that this is a better alternative, consider this. When I preserve the food, you'll know exactly what is going into each jar – no more unpronounceable additives – and you'll know exactly when something was picked and then put into the jar, not just an arbitrary best-used-by date."

The boss always covered all the angles. "Then what about food safety. Salmonella, e. coli and other bacteria?"

"The first rule is a clean kitchen. Second golden rule is to make sure that you use sanitized jars, utensils, etc. You clean everything, I mean everything, including the food that is going into the jars and then you have to can them at the appropriate temperatures for the appropriate length of time. It is basically the exact same science used by the big canneries only at the home level. And, not to freak you out or anything, but you've been eating some of the stuff my mom canned for a couple of months now. I just couldn't stand the idea of throwing it away. Too wasteful. And the food pantries wouldn't take it because it wasn't commercially prepared. That garbanzo bean soup you are always asking for? Mom and I canned that last Christmas."

He gave me blank face for a few moments and then said, "You've almost got me convinced. Let me do a little research and I'll give you my answer within the week."

The boss is no push over. I knew when I raised the idea that all I could do was present my argument but that he would have to decide on his own. He is unpushable when it comes to the decision making process. However it took him less than the week he'd asked for. Part of his research was to go to a grocery store after work one evening. He came in the door that night looking a little shell shocked at the prices. "When did the prices get that high? And why haven't you had to ask for an increase in the house funds?"

I explained that I had just shifted things around a little bit. Shopped once a month instead of weekly. Always had a menu and grocery list made out in advance. Used coupons – some of which I printed from online sources – and sales flyers. Shopped at some of the international markets to get specialty items at a discount. Instead of preparing steak several times a week, I'd use less meat in a stir fry; same steak, I just didn't need as much of it to prepare a filling meal. I got seafood when it went BOGO at the store and not before. We had a few more ground beef and chicken dinners. Instead of only adding meat to the homemade spaghetti sauce I made, I also added some veggies and ground sausage which gave a heartier sauce, tasted great, but turned out to be cheaper than a regular meat sauce.

I pieced out the luxury items, some of which were the boss' favorites, with rice, beans and lentils. I added a couple of vegan meals during the month like bean burgers on homemade buns. I made the dressings we used on salads rather than pay the exorbitant price of the ones in the bottles. I baked most of the bread, snacks, and desserts instead of buying them at the bakery. The only time I would buy something at the bakery was if I needed day old bread for bread pudding or something along those lines and didn't have any of my own. And when Nydia had started breaking out from most of the store-bought laundry detergents I started making my own and using vinegar to replace fabric softener in all the clothes except for the towels.

He gave me what I've come to consider the "inscrutable face." It's the one he uses when he doesn't want you to know what he is thinking but doesn't want you to know that he doesn't want you to know what he's thinking. "I never noticed." He didn't sound happy about it, but he admitted, "So if I didn't notice, you did a good job of making things work." And because he just could not let it go without some precautionary note he added, "Just be careful with the international grocery stores, especially anything that comes from Asia; China in particular."

I assured him that I was always careful and that I only shopped at reputable locations that my mother used to visit and had never had problems with them.

"Well, there's always a first time for everything. Don't forget you have Nydia with you."

Some people might have found the way he often phrased things insulting. I wasn't sure at first but now I know he isn't trying to be irritating; at least most of the time. He just has a bad habit of trying to micro-manage everything. It is annoying on occasion but I've learned not to take it personally. He is a workaholic that is that way about everything, not just about work.

I was feeling really good. Job I enjoyed. The boss listened to me even if he didn't always take my suggestions. Nydia gave me someone to lavish my affection on so I wasn't lonely. The living conditions suited me to a tee. Every once in a while Bea would needle me about needing to get back into the dating scene but honestly it just held no interest for me. I began to seriously consider the possibility that maybe I was meant to be an "old maid." I was satisfied with my life. Then there came that change of season thing again.

The first I was aware of it a Sheriff showed up at the boss' door and served a notice that a civil suit was being brought against him for the wrongful custody … or whatever legalize they used … of one Nydia Gilbert. It basically escalated from there into a huge custody battle between the boss and Nydia's biological father. Actually, it wasn't the biological father bringing the suit but his family as they believed … wrongly as it turned out … that Nydia had inherited a significant number of assets from her grandparents.

Mr. Jakob might have come around to the idea of visitation rights but the Gilbert family wanted the whole shebang. They were making up all kinds of stories about how unfit the boss was to parent, how he really wasn't doing anything but putting her with a glorified babysitter (me), how he was allowing me to raise her in a cult, and on and on. It was horrible. I'd never really had anyone question my character before. They even raised the issue that I had been let go from my teaching position, making it out that it was for some other reason than what was listed officially.

The boss was furious. And to add insult to injury, his lady love became engaged to one of the up and coming young bucks in his firm … courtesy of Papa Lazaro's contriving. The boss was under a lot of pressure but I only saw him come close to cracking once. I came in with Nydia – we had gone to the Produce Station after a nice hour at the park – to find the boss home earlier than expected.

There were a few times when Hank would drink. I hadn't liked it, mainly because he would lose all of his inhibitions and become an embarrassment that I didn't want to be connected with, though I never said it out loud. As a result of that and the fact that my parents didn't drink I was uncomfortable around anyone that did drink, even if it was appropriate to the situation such as a toast at a wedding. I know it was a little judgmental and I tried not to let my own prejudice get out of hand. So when I went to work for the boss I had to get used to the fact that he might have a glass of wine with dinner every so often or the occasional snifter of brandy or tumbler of scotch. But never did I see him drink more than a glass on any of those occasions.

That day when I walked in and saw the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, the bottle I knew hadn't been open the day before, and saw that it was half empty I'll admit I was shocked. I stopped quickly in my tracks and then tried to casually turn to go lay down a sleeping Nydia but I guess he saw the look anyway.

As I was quietly leaving the room I heard him set the glass down with a click on the glass table top. I don't consider myself a coward but it wasn't easy for me to go back and act normal. Passing the den I saw him at the liquor cabinet. I picked up the bags of produce I had left at the front door and took them to the kitchen.

I was filling the sink with cold water to soak the bunches of carrots and celery that I had purchased when the boss walked in, carefully sat his empty glass on the counter and in a very controlled voice asked for, "Coffee. Black. A whole pot. Bring it to the office." He walked out with slow and deliberate steps.

I made the coffee and wondered what could possibly be wrong. He didn't appear to be angry with me, I hadn't given him reason to be, but something was definitely up. As soon as the coffee was finished I put it in a carafe and grabbed his favorite stoneware coffee mug. When I got to the office I slowly opened the door and found Mr. Jakob with his head on his desk supported by his arms.

"Boss?" I asked trying to lighten the mood a bit by using a term that I knew irritated him just enough that it had made him laugh in the past. He lifted his head and looked at me in response to my question but there wasn't any humor on his face; there wasn't anything on his face, it was completely blank.

I sat the mug down and poured it three-quarters full of the thick, strong Cuban coffee he prefers. The smell of it finally reached him and he picked it up and drank it half way down before I could even warm him it was hot.

He cleared his throat a couple of times before he was able to speak. "Perhaps you … you and Nydia …" He trailed off and it was like he had forgotten what he was going to say.

I took the bull by the horns and said, "You aren't drunk but you're close Mr. Jakob. Whatever it is … you want to talk I'm here. Otherwise I'll be in the kitchen."

I was half-way through the door when he said, "Leah …"

I turned. "Leah, in the morning I have to have Nydia at court. The judge wants to see all interested parties. This includes you. The … the thing … look, you need to sit down."

I knew immediately that whatever was going on was something I wasn't going to like.

"I'm … I'm not making excuses. My lawyer suggested it and I made the choice to follow her advice. It wasn't … it wasn't a problem until recently. I still don't know how it all got out but I have my suspicions and …"

I had survived a year and some teaching at one of the worst highschools in the school district. I was not going to be intimidated simply because it sounded like I was walking down the hall to get another pink slip. The boss had never given me any reason to think that he would treat me unfairly but I knew that Nydia took priority over everything so I tried to prepare myself.

"One of the main issues that kept being raised was that I was unmarried and had no family for a social support network. The other lawyer somehow found out that ..." he stopped to pour himself more coffee but his hand was shaking so bad that I reached over and took it from him.

"Mr. Jakob, whatever it is …"

"I didn't start out with the advantages that some of the other people in the firm did. In fact I'm the first … and so far the only … person in my family to go to college. My niece … but of course that changed as soon as she met that little … and then Nydia came along. I was going to help my sister get her into school and with the expenses of keeping her there but …"

I knew that part of the story from Carmen who seemed to enjoy making Nydia's mother look bad even if it meant making the boss look good.

"Leah, I never meant … I'm not even sure how to explain this. First off, I want you to know that I never meant for you to get involved. I never meant for your reputation to get called into question." That statement sure as heck got my attention. "When Rachel said she wanted to see other people so that her father would get off her back I acquiesced because I really didn't have any reason not to believe her. It was only supposed to be for a short time. I had no idea … be that as it may … what I'm trying to explain is …"

"Mr. Jakob, what is so bad that you've lost your normal eloquence? You could sell snowballs to people living in the arctic." Again I was trying to lighten what was obviously an uncomfortable situation for him.

"I hope you're right Leah because I'm about to try and sell a bill of goods to you that not even I like. I take full responsibility for this but I would like you to at least consider that I did it for Nydia's sake." With a deep breath he finally spit it all out. "At the lawyer's suggestion I … allowed people to think that I did have a close relationship that would be ending in marriage. Because of Rachel's actions I wasn't able to … the only other woman that fit the bill … well, was you. Wait! Please let me finish. I never said anything directly. I let the lawyer handle the … the innuendoes. I had no reason to think that it would ever go further than that and that it would be kept between the parties involved in the custody battle. No one should have been discussing it. But someone did. Again, I have my suspicions how it came about and I'll deal with that as soon as I secure Nydia's custody. I …"

I finally couldn't keep my mouth shut any longer. "Are you telling me that you let people think that you and I … that … that … I'm more than just your housekeeper?!"

He was very uncomfortable but I unwillingly felt some respect for the way he was taking personal responsibility for what he had done. "Yes, and I apologize. I don't have any excuse. My reasons … I simply cannot lose custody of Nydia. That boy's family are a bunch of … you'll meet them tomorrow. I hope you'll agree to meet them tomorrow and you'll see … Carmen was the best of the lot and the only reason I agreed to have her in my home is because she and my mother had been close friends. Leah, I … I will lose Nydia if any of this becomes known that … that I allowed … that I lied about the type of relationship we have. She's all the family I have left. I …"

I took my own deep breath and asked, "Exactly what are you asking me to do? … And … and why?"

"As I said … oh #$%. Look, that SOB that Rachel got engaged to is trying to destroy me. Mr. Lazaro set me up. I own too much stock in the company and my portfolio is too large for him to fire me outright without risking his own livelihood. But he has been looking for something for years now to discredit me with so that the other partners would do the dirty work for him. Now he's agreed to marry Rachel off to that little piker and help him take my VP position and get my portfolio that's taken me over ten years to build. They couldn't discredit me professionally so now they are trying to do it through my personal life. Professionally I can challenge them and win hands down, but they've brought Nydia into it as a pawn in their game. I can't lose her. I'll …" He drug his hands through his already unruly black hair … hair that was normally so well behaved that a hurricane wind could not have budged it.

"Boss, I totally sympathize having been a victim of work place politics myself but that still doesn't tell me how I got drawn into this and how I can help you keep custody of Nydia."

"That is the part that doesn't show me in very good light. I apologize in advance Leah but I'm not sure that is enough. As I said, I allowed the lawyer to build a fantasy that made it appear that … that you and I … but the piper is now asking for payment. The judged wants both parties to prove that they can provide the best home for Nydia. The man has turned it into a #$% competition! And I've been warned by my lawyer that the other side intends to prove that I've been lying all along. I need your help. They'll take Nydia."

"You're asking me to lie."

"No … I … yes. Yes I am. I'm asking you to go into court with me tomorrow and appear as my fiancé."

"Your … your fiancé?!"

"Yes. I'll compensate you for …"

"Mr. Jakob. Please don't say what you were about to say. I … I'm not … look, I don't want you to lose Nydia. I know you love her. I also know that you would do anything for her. It took me a while to understand but I have full confidence in that fact. But whether I help you or not will not be dictated on … receiving 'compensation' because that would be …"

"Again Leah, I apologize. I simply meant …"

"I know what you meant and you should be glad that I do understand well enough not to be overly offended by what you nearly said. Just explain what you need me to do and give me a few minutes to think about it."

Basically he needed me to go to court the next day as his fiancé and answer any questions that might be posed to me as honestly as I could while still allowing them to believe that the boss and I had a relationship closer than that of employer/employee. As awful as it sounds I was glad my parents weren't around to see the mess. And I agreed to do as he asked even though I was angry at myself for doing so. I knew even then that all I was doing was allowing a lie to continue and that would do nothing but make things worse. But I also knew that Mr. Jakob did have good reason to fear that he would lose Nydia if it all came out and I knew that despite the lie he was still the better person to be her parent than the biological father.

The next morning I dressed carefully in a gray skirt and jacket, simple gray pumps, and a white blouse. Instead of wearing my hair up as I normally did, I French-braided it to just below my shoulders and allowed the rest of the curly mass to fall its remaining length to below my waist. This was what I wore in the classroom and what I still wore to church on Sundays. I was going to help the best I could but I wasn't going to suddenly change who I was. I fit the car seat into the back seat of Mr. Jakob's vehicle … an older model Jaguar that he'd proudly explained months ago that he'd bought cheap at an auction when he'd made VP at the firm.

Older model or not it was a heck of a lot more ostentatious than my little Chevy workhorse that I'd had since highschool and I'll admit to being afraid of smudging or breaking something the few times I had been in it. Rather than sitting in the back seat with Nydia he asked me to sit up front with him so that we could talk.

"Leah, I'll ask one more time … Are you sure that …"

"Look Boss, I may not like the position I feel like I've been pressured into but I like the idea of you losing custody of Nydia even less. I'm between a rock and a hard place but I've made my choice. Nydia is what is important here, not my own sensibilities."

He again acted grateful which sat oddly on him and we proceeded the rest of the way to the courthouse in relative, but not uncomfortable, silence. The only other thing he asked was that I call him by his given name, Mateo.

For a while it appeared my presence alone was enough to offset the other lawyer's claims. The judge had spoken to everyone else and looked like he was prepared to call a recess but then the other lawyer started up with the fact that I wasn't anything but a gold digger looking to make a buck off of the situation. Mr. Jakob was getting obviously angry at that and I reached over and handed him Nydia because he'd never lost his cool when she was around. As soon as he had Nydia in his arms he calmed right back down. For good or ill the judge noticed my move and decided he wanted to speak with me directly.

"Ms. Hambrick, this court is here to decide the custody and future of a very young child unable to speak for themself. While all of the other facts in this case are straight forward, your position in it has been brought into question several times. It would appear that both sides are hinging their case on whether or not you are in fact who and what has been claimed or if there is or is not some fraud occurring. I would like to hear you explain yourself if you please."

"Your … your Honor, I'm not sure I understand."

"Ms. Hambrick I would like you to describe to me your position as little Nydia's caregiver and your relationship with Mr. Jakob. Start with how you met."

"Oh. I originally was acting as a part time house maid and …"

The other side's lawyer said, "See. This is what my clients …"

The judge was not pleased at the interruption. "Mr. Jones, if I require your help in questioning Ms. Hambrick I will let you know. Ms. Hambrick, please continue."

"Like I said, I was working part time but it was actually three months before I met Mr. Jakob."

"Your Honor, please, she doesn't even call him by his first name. It's obvious …"

"Mr. Jones, one more interruption by you or anyone else and I will cite them for contempt. Have I made myself clear? Ms. Hambrick, since Mr. Jones brought it up, would you care to explain?"

"Your Honor, this whole situation is extremely uncomfortable for me. I … I'm private. Mr. Jakob …we haven't … for Nydia's sake we haven't been very public. Calling Mateo by his given name doesn't feel appropriate in this setting."

"Hmmm. I understood that Mr. Jakob's name was Matt."

The boss spoke up, "Your Honor, if I may. Mateo is what I was called by my family. It is what I asked Leah to call me. Matt is what I'm known by professionally."

"I see. Very well Ms. Hambrick, please continue."

"The day I met … Mateo … was a horrible day for him. His sister and her family had just died as a result of someone else's reckless driving on I4 on their way back from a short family vacation. Nydia was the only one not injured while everyone else in the car died. He was visibly distraught. Having experience with young children I simply did what anyone else would have done under the circumstances. My parents also did what they could and …"

"Your parents are deceased now, yes?"

"Yes."

"But they knew Mr. Jakob."

"Yes. My father was … a protective man Your Honor. However, he had no problems with … Mateo … at all. They also knew Nydia and my mother made her a quilt and a few soft toys that are still among her favorites. When both my parents died unexpectedly I was … I found myself rather distraught. Mateo helped with some arrangements and when Carmen – she was the night and weekend nanny for Nydia and a direct relation to Nydia's biological father – had to leave to fulfill some other familial obligations, Mateo asked me to move in and take care of Nydia full time since he already knew my work ethic and character enough to trust me."

"The question remains how you went from being the housekeeper and nanny to being a fiancé." For the first time I heard more than a hint of suspicion in the judge's voice … and contempt though to his credit I don't think he had meant for me to hear that part of it.

"Your Honor, while I understand everyone's concern I can assure you that nothing … obscene … has been occurring. Mateo is a complete gentleman and always has been. We operate on very strict rules of conduct, including privacy concerning personal matters. We both prefer it that way. How is a difficult question to answer, it … it just happened. We both love Nydia and want the best for her."

"I see no ring. There have been no official announcements. And this whole thing sounds rather contrived and coincidental considering the depositions I've read regarding Mr. Jakob's previous relationship with one Rachel Lazaro."

"And I'm sure that Ms. Lazaro's fiancé has had quite a hand at providing that story to you." That gave the judge pause. "I refuse to try and dress it up and make it look pretty. Rachel hurt Mateo. She asked to have an open relationship so that she could see other men. I personally find that kind of behavior distasteful. You are either committed or you are not. She obviously was not. She is now engaged to a man known to be jealous of Mateo's position within his firm and of his former relationship with his soon-to-be wife. The man in question would do a great deal to make himself look better to Mr. Lazaro who is a senior partner in the firm all three men work at. I am not surprised, given what I've witnessed at some of the company picnics, that the man would use Nydia … and me … as a tool to cause Mateo pain. I've already stated that Mateo and I are private individuals. Shortly before I went to work for him I had a very long term relationship … end. I was not looking for any type of … entanglement. I'm sure I speak for Mateo when I say that he wasn't either. Nydia brought us together. We are both well aware of how some people could … manipulate … the situation and make us look like our morals are less than they should be. However, for Nydia's sake we've never done anything that we shouldn't. Mateo knows that one of these days Nydia is going to have questions and he is going to have to answer her honestly."

"Ms. Hambrick, you seem to be aware that people can manipulate the facts of this case. You must therefore be aware that your words can be taken in more than one way. You didn't answer the question of a ring or announcement. Do you wish to do so now?"

"As I said Your Honor, Mateo and I are private individuals. Any announcement that followed Ms. Lazaro's own engagement announcement would appear … frankly it would look ridiculous, like we were competing. As far as a ring goes, I would never marry a man based on financial gain. My mother never had an engagement ring. Expecting a ring from Mateo never entered my mind. There have been much more important issues to address than ostentatious public displays. Nydia's care and custody has always taken precedent to our own desires."

"You care a great deal for Nydia."

"Yes."

"You would do anything for her."

"I'm not sure if that is a question or not."

"Would you lie for her? Fake a relationship with your employer? I ask you now because the question has come up a number of times in discussions in my chamber."

"Your Honor. Whatever occurs in this court or at any point in my life I believe that I am personally accountable and personal responsible for. I … I would do a great deal for Nydia. I would lay down my life for her. I cannot deny that. But … but I also have a responsibility that when she is old enough to ask I have to be able to answer her and not be ashamed. Having people … draw into question my moral turpitude … has been … difficult for me. Doubly so because somehow I've become a linchpin in a case I don't believe I have any right to have standing in to begin with. Mateo has been a wonderful provider for Nydia from the moment she entered this world. Contrary to the other side's claim, Nydia has never had some large inheritance coming to her from her grandparents. After his sister and her family's deaths, a great many debts were revealed. The legal documents show that but somehow the other side continues to believe in some fantasy that Nydia is a baby Cinderella in the making. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Mateo has always been extremely careful of the company he keeps; his home has been kept as a haven where Nydia can be raised in safety and good health. Mateo has seen to her every need. He's already started a college fund for her out of his own pocket since there wasn't anything left after settling all of the hospital bills and other debts of his sister's family. All of these things are in direct contrast to the behavior of Nydia's biological father. He has never even seen Nydia, never requested to see her, had even agreed to end his parental rights rather than pay the child support that her mother was taking him to court over. We have documented proof of this. He's not even in court today, only his parents and their lawyer is. The biological father is not financially able – nor mentally or emotionally prepared in my opinion - to provide for Nydia and in fact has never made an effort to do so. He never requested visitation rights even though his family could have kept apprised anytime they wanted to through Carmen. This custody battle is the absolute first time that they've ever made any effort to have anything to do with Nydia and she is nearly twenty months old. The most abhorrent thing however is that their lawyer has repeatedly made it clear that the true reason behind this move is to gain control of some absolutely non-existent trust fund that Mateo is supposedly hiding from them. What is really more important here? Some fabled trust fund or what is best for Nydia?"

I had stayed calm through my whole diatribe until those last two questions. The judge released me, called for a recess and we left to get Nydia some lunch. I was angry and trying my best to not show it and was succeeding until we ran into some of the boss' colleagues from work.

"Hi. I'm Marilyn Shepherd. We met a couple of months back at Mr. Lazaro's party."

"Hi." The last thing I felt like doing was socializing at that point.

"I had no idea. You and Matt never let on at all."

Uh oh. I hadn't thought about having to carry the whole thing on outside of the courtroom. "It would have been tacky given it was an event to showcase Mr. Lazaro's new protégé and his daughter."

"Oh yeah. Right. Well, congratulations. I mean that. Matt needs someone now that Rachel … Oh … Tom… Tom, over here … I want you to meet Matt's fiancé."

I felt completely helpless to prevent what was happening. I felt the boss come up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder and casually wedge himself between me and one of the young men at his firm that had a bad habit of having too many hands in all the wrong places. Nydia got fussy with all the strangers around so we excused ourselves and then ran into his lawyer who said she had just come from the judge's chamber.

"Matt, we almost have this in the bag but the judge keeps coming back to the issue with Leah. He wants some proof that the relationship wasn't designed to fool him into granting you custody."

I was really irritated by this point. "Oh for pity sake. What more does he want?!"

"He wants some proof of the legitimacy of the relationship."

The boss asked, "Exactly what is he looking for? Has he said?"

"No and that is frustrating. Whatever it is, it has to be something significant."

"Let me talk to Leah alone please."

"Matt, there isn't much time. The judge is calling us back in chambers in fifteen minutes."

"I realize that, just give us a few moments." After the lawyer left the boss turned to me ,"Leah … I'm sorry. Please, if you don't feel able to go any further with this I'll … I'll understand. But if … if you trust me, I'd like to … to make a proposition."

"You can't expect me to lie any more. I've gone so far passed my comfort level that I could barely look at myself in the mirror when I went to the ladies' room."

"I'm not asking you to lie. I'm … I'm proposing that we create … a partnership. I know that you've only gone this far for Nydia's sake. I'm asking that you consider," he cleared his throat and started over. "Leah, I'm asking you to consider … consider allowing me to legalize our partnership."

It took me a second to understand what he was talking about. "Are you … are you actually asking me … are you asking me to … to marry you?!"

"I realize this is nothing like you expected and …"

I gave a harsh laugh, "Nothing like I expected. Yeah, you could say that."

"Just hear me out. We both have the same goal here. We want Nydia to be raised in a loving and nurturing environment. I know for my part that I've trusted you from the beginning with her care. You are a stellar housekeeper. The only thing that would change is that you would get more security. We would sign a pre-nup that would provide for your care regardless of what happens to me. You would still be free to come and go just like before, you would simply have more standing socially when it came to carrying out your duties."

I was in shock, "And … and exactly what do you get out of this … this merger?"

"I would get the courts off of my back as far as Nydia's custody is concerned and I would begin adoption proceedings immediately. I wouldn't have to worry who I could leave her care to in case something was to happen to me. My life would pretty much continue on as before."

The lawyer stuck her head around the corner, "Whatever you are deciding you need to be quick. I see the judge going back into his chambers."

"Leah?"

I could not believe I was even contemplating what he had suggested but I couldn't give him an answer because the bailiff came out and asked us to step back into the courtroom. We all found our places. I could see it on the judge's face. We were going to lose Nydia. The other side saw it too and were already starting to crow a little bit. I knew I had to act. I stood up.

"Your Honor? I realize this is highly irregular but Mateo's lawyer has mentioned that you are still concerned about … about our relationship. Might I ask … would legal documents alleviate your concerns?"

The judge's nostrils flared at the interruption before he had even been able to start. "Yes Ms. Hambrick they would but none have been presented to me."

"That's because we've been so focused on the custody case that we haven't had time to finalize anything."

"Miss Hambrick, are you trying to blame me for the lack of documentation?"

"No your Honor, I'm saying that we have prioritized Nydia's needs above our own."

I'd given him pause at least. "And what documentation would you present if you had time?"

"A pre-nup contract primarily."

"Mr. Jakob, are you prepared to verify Miss Hambrick's claim?"

The boss stood up straight and tall and said, "Yes Your Honor, I am."

A thoughtful moment passed, "Very well, I'll give you an additional two hours of recess. These documents need to be on my desk at that time. I will not tolerate any more delays. I will be making my decision today."

The other side started making a lot of noise but I could barely hear it over the pounding of my heart. All I could do was hold Nydia and rock … whether I was rocking her or myself I still don't know.

"Matt … are you sure you want to do this? We could appeal or bring our own civil action …"

"Enough. We got into this because I allowed myself to follow your suggestions in the first place. How quickly can we get the Pre-Nup written."

"Matt …"

"Times wasting," he said and I caught a glimpse of the tough businessman my boss was known to be.

"Miss Hambrick I feel compelled to …"

"Forget it. I want what is best for Nydia and I believe that having her remain in Mr. Jakob's custody is what is best. We don't need to turn this into a Greek tragedy. What I walk into this with I keep. Mr. Jakob retains everything that is his. In the event that something happens to either of us, our estates are to be put in trust for Nydia. We'll work the details of executors and all of that out later. I'm already on the house account and my insurance is paid through my payroll … I … I guess …"

"I'll continue to cover it Leah. If you trust me to work out the remaining details … unless there is someone else that you'd like to call?"

"There isn't anyone else. I trusted you to help me with my parents' estate. I've worked for you for long enough and you've never harmed me in any way. I've never met anyone other than Nydia's paternal family that has even come close to saying something ill of you. I'm committed. This is about Nydia. I … this isn't … oh forget it. Let's just do this."

And we did. The judge kept us waiting for the rest of the day. Finally, after every other case had been settled or continued he called us back into court and said, "I hereby find that Nydia Gilbert shall remain in the custody of her maternal uncle, Mateo Jakob. Will the lawyers for both parties approach the bench?"

Just like that … or almost. When Mr. Jakob's lawyer returned to us she said, "He is going to wring this for all it is worth. He's withholding his signature on the final documents until proof that a marriage has taken place. We need that signature to proceed with the adoption Matt. If you were planning on pulling out of this – if either of you were planning to pull out of this – that option is no longer on the table if you want the final decree."

We were going to be married at the courthouse but someone made a huge deal of it at the firm and somehow I found myself needing a white dress, a cake, and spending an ungodly amount of money that I'd never planned on.

"Make sure I get the bill."

"I'll pay for my own dress thank you."

"Leah …"

"Boss …"

"You didn't have any trouble calling me Mateo before."

"That was before."

"I'm asking you to call me Mateo now. At least let us try and be friends."

"All right … Mateo. But … look, I … yes, I want to be friends but you are going to have to … make some concessions as well. I'm … old fashioned. I … I have a dress I can use. It won't embarrass you and I would prefer to … retain some … some independence in what is going on. Please."

"I got you into this. It's my responsibility to …"

"You didn't put a gun to my head. I made a choice. I might not have made such a choice under any other circumstances but we both want what is best for Nydia. Just let me … retain … a certain … certain …"

"Independence?"

"Let's call it … autonomy."

"Fair enough. But I mean it Leah. I … I don't want you to spend all your savings on this … on this … situation."

"I won't. But I won't be an embarrassment either. I just need to feel a little … more in control than I have been. I … I trust you but I'm feeling so overwhelmed at the moment."

That night the boss … guess I really do need to start calling him Mateo even if I have a hard time swallowing around the word "husband' … asked if we could talk again.

"Leah, we never revisited your compensation in this and … wait, please hear me out. I realize calling it compensation makes you feel uncomfortable. I don't mean it to be but I want you to understand that I don't intend on taking advantage of you. I want you to know that I'll do my best to see that you are financially secure and provided for and …"

He kept on talking about different kind of investments and settlements and I honestly don't know what all. It was like white noise to me. "Mr. Jakob … Mateo … I appreciate what you are doing on my behalf. I truly do. I feel more than a little mercenary when the subject is brought up but that's my problem, not yours. It's like we are talking two different languages. I'm more concerned with continuing our agreement concerning Nydia … that you won't suddenly just dump me out of her life now that the custody issue has been laid to rest. I've … I've given this a great deal of thought. I've prayed about it. I'm not really sure why but I do feel like I'm fulfilling one of the things that I've been put on this earth to do. If you can just … find some way to … to …"

"I'll put it in writing as an addendum to the Pre-Nup if that will make you feel better."

Embarrassed I said, "I hate to say it but yes, please do that. And … and if it would make you more comfortable you can add that if for whatever reason you find that I'm morally incapable of …"

"Leah, I've known you long enough to know that isn't something I need to worry about but likely the lawyer will have something to say about it. Soon this will be all behind us and we'll be able to go back to our normal lives."

I nearly laughed at him when he said that. Normal lives? I was beginning to wonder if I would ever return to "normal." I missed dull, still do. I wanted things back the way they were when I was a kid and life so much simpler. But I also knew to get that I'd have to give up too much.

So we were married in a small chapel near his office complex. I wore a dress I had made for a state fair competition during highschool. The dress had come in third place. I'd matured since the dress was made and no longer thought of myself as Sleeping Beauty waiting for my prince to kiss me awake. I stopped believing in fairy tales when Hank cheated on me for the last time. I wanted the dress to reflect that. I took off most of the heavy lace and beading. I cringed remembering all of the hours I spent attaching it by hand but this wasn't the first time I'd had to make over clothing so I set my mind to the task at hand.

When I got down to the basic shell I was left with a simple corseted sleevless dress with an a-line skirt and a small chapel length train. I attached three rows of faux pearls instead of sleeves. I restrung the corset top with new silk ribbons that Bea and her mother helped me tie on my wedding day. Instead of fancy beading I wore my great great grandmother's pearl necklace and my mother's pearl drop earrings Dad had given her after I was born. I wore my hair in a Grecian up-style and also had faux pearls woven through the curls that, just for the day, I allowed to go without the discipline of the flatiron. The skirt fell to the floor over the top of a petticoat lightly stiffened with boning at the hem; plain and unadorned. My shoes were ribbon sandals so it was almost like being barefoot under the dress. The only other item that completed the look was my bouquet of three white calla lilies tied with a plain white ribbon.

Because my own minister had been scheduled at a mission conference we used Bea's uncle who was an ordained minister, though not currently shepherding a church. Mateo was extremely uncomfortable; it was easier for him to open his wallet than it was for him to open his mouth.

"I understand you want a very simple ceremony."

After looking at Mateo and deciding he was turning out to be absolutely no help I said, "Yes. We … we would like a ceremony that shows our commitment but doesn't get terribly … mushy. If you could leave out … love … and make a bigger deal out of honor and respect that would be perfect."

He gave a perplexed smile, "Usually the people I marry want it the other way around. It is all about love and they want to remove the 'honor and obey' portion."

"Oh, I don't have problems with obeying or honoring or respecting … whatever you want to call it. We are just both … private … and the people attending the wedding are mostly there because … frankly because they are just nosey. A few people are close friends like Bea but for the rest of them … neither one of us has family attending and this is primarily to make a public statement to let people know that we've made a public commitment to our common goals."

He quirked an eyebrow but agreed to alter the marriage vows to leave out the word "love" despite finding the request unusual. As we left the rehearsal, Nydia let it be known that it was past her bedtime and that she was in no way pleased by the fact. She finally calmed down after we had been on the road for a few minutes and was asleep before we got on the interstate to return home on the other side of town.

"Thank you."

Mateo had startled me out of my mental list making and I asked, "What?"

"I said thank you. For handling the ceremony details."

"Uh sure. You … you didn't want to add or change ..."

"No. No, you handled it well."

The next day was the wedding and I didn't know 90% of the people there. Some of my friends from church came, a few highschool friends, and Bea and her mother of course. The reception was a mix of catered elegance that Mateo had ordered for the occasion and homemade goodies brought by the people on the bride's side of the aisle. In deference to the time of day the only liquor was the bubbly used to toast us with and I made sure that there was enough nonalcoholic refreshments to satisfy those that didn't or couldn't imbibe.

A hyper young man approached us immediately after the ceremony and told us where to stand and what to do as he flashed an uncountable number of photos. As the young man bounded off to "get some shots" of the reception I turned to Mateo and asked, "Who on earth was that?"

"A last minute wedding present from one of the Board members. It's her nephew and he is starting up his own business."

"Oh. Will he expect …"

"It's all taken care of."

I thought everything was going smashingly well despite being nearly blinded and had actually started to relax and have a good time. That is until Rachel showed up with her fiancé in tow and Papa Lazaro not too far away listening in.

"Oh my. We were all just so surprised … well, is there any other announcement that you plan on making in the near future?"

I'm not stupid but it took me a few moments to figure out what everyone was snickering about. "If you are wondering if I'm pregnant the answer is no. Whatever type of relationship that you and Mateo had in the past Rachel, I can assure you that he has never been anything other than a perfect gentleman with me. I respect him a great deal, and he me."

"How … lovely for you I'm sure. Obviously your relationship isn't built on excitement. I'm afraid I always did find Matt a little boring."

"Then obviously we don't value the same characteristics in people. I prefer Mateo's honesty and consistency. I know I can trust him implicitly. He is a real man and has worked hard for his position. No one gave it to him just because he was family or because he was dating the boss's daughter."

Youch, you would have thought I had tied a lit firecracker to that she cat's tail the way she took off out of there. It wasn't until I left to change the little flower girl's diaper … Mateo had carried her in his arms and she had pulled off his boutonniere and thrown it into the pews much to everyone's amusement … that I learned that Mateo had several people tell him about my run in with Rachel.

"Leah … I realize that … Rachel can be …"

"Mateo, if I embarrassed you I apologize; however, I won't be browbeaten by her or her paramour. What they did to you was inexcusable. The problems that they caused with Nydia's custody is why we are here today. I respect that you still have feelings for the woman but I have to say I don't have much respect for her. Someone that would use a baby like Nydia as a pawn is not someone that I want to make nice with."

After a brief but silent struggle he said, "Very well. I am asking you however to remember that I must work with these people, many of whom sympathize with the Lazaro family. I can't afford to make too many enemies."

I took a breath and counted to ten before saying, "All right. I will be as polite as I am able. I … I'm sorry. I don't want to cause problems of any sort. I'll do my best to avoid her without making it look like I'm running from her."

Suddenly he relaxed and leaned against the wall. "The two of you are very different but there is a lot that is similar." I did not appreciate the comparison in the least. "Leah, I know this is a lot for both of us and will take some getting used to and … some compromises for both of us as well. My concern is to protect what we've built so that we can protect Nydia. Rachel is used to having her own way and will go to great lengths to get it. She is going to try and push you and she'll have her friends attempt to rattle you as well to find out more than she has a right to know. I suppose I should have expected this. Just do what you can. Something is up around the office and I need to be on guard."

"Something to do with …this situation?"

"No, at least I don't believe so. It's at the top and Mr. Lazaro is nervous. Lots of closed meetings with the Board. He's avoided the VPs' meetings for two weeks now and he's usually in there as the Board's representative. The last time it was like this one of the major partners left and took a chunk of the customer base with him. Whatever it is, it is big."

Big? I should say it was. A week after we were married the news came down. Mr. Lazaro and two of the Board members were caught in a ponzi type investment scheme. They used the firm's good name to cover for their activities and now the SEC is involved. The firm is under heavy investigation, even those that had nothing to do with the scheme. Mateo was one of the first portfolios investigated; he was cleared two weeks later but it hasn't helped much. Many of his clients have pulled their accounts, not just from him but from the firm and the firm has lost a great many accounts and is in danger of failing. Despite being cleared by the SEC the firm decided to put Mateo first on the chopping block to act as a public scapegoat. They didn't get one in Mateo because he pulled a preemptive strike.

Mateo has a friend from college that works for a local FOX news affiliate. He took his story to the airwaves, explaining his position and that the SEC had cleared him and now that they had he felt free to leave the firm. The news piece came out before the firm's Board could oust him. Mateo also contacted all of his clients personally and explained things and made recommendations for local brokers to continue their investments. He left with a clear conscience and a clean slate … but that brought problems of its own.

No one is hiring right now, not even someone of Mateo's talent. He sits at his desk all day long and sometimes long into the night doing who knows what. I can tell he is stressed. We aren't close enough for me to know what to do to help him. I've been a wife for a whole month but nothing has really changed in most respects. I'm no more than the housekeeper and nanny that I was before. Nydia is our one bright spot. Every day lunch is a picnic in the backyard and an hour of play time with her uncle. She loves having Mateo home to play with. I honestly believe she is the one reason he is trying to hold on.

I know I should be nervous. I am but more out of concern for the boss … I mean Mateo. I did something today I didn't think through enough. When I went to the grocery store and vegetable stand I used my own savings to pay the bills. I was able to get some really good deals so when I came in I pulled up to the garage to unload rather than pack everything through the house. Mateo saw the abundance and pulled himself out of his office chair long enough to help. He said he'd take the receipts and key them in for me but when I casually explained that the money hadn't come out of the house account he started wigging out.

For the first time I got to see Mateo's temper directed at me, and I don't like it. It flashes hot and I got scorched. Thing is, he got a dose of my temper in repayment as well.

"No Mateo, you listen to me. We agreed that this was a partnership for Nydia's benefit. It is not going to kill me to foot the bill every once in a while and it isn't going to kill you to let me. To be honest I don't know what state your financial affairs are in; I never considered them to be any of my business. As far as I know they still aren't any of my business so long as Nydia is taken care of. If there is something you need me to know you'll tell me and I'm fine with that because that was the agreement; you keep yours and I keep mine. And the reason I haven't taken my 'pay' out of the house funds is because I no longer work for you but with you. I'm trying to help for crying out loud! Acting like a wounded water buffalo because I'm not spending your money hand over fist simply doesn't make any sense to me!"

I have no clue what it was I said but his lips started to twitch. "I haven't lost my temper like that in a long time Leah. I'm afraid this entire situation has … has …"

"Got you bent out of shape?"

"Yes, to put it mildly. Yes. We need to talk. Not tonight, I still have some reports to finish. Do you have time tomorrow?"

"Nydia and I were invited to a MOPS play date in the morning but we'll be back before lunch."

"OK then, we'll have lunch and then Nydia will go down for her nap and that should give us the time we need for our discussion."

So my day is planned out tomorrow; today actually, it is past midnight. At least the day is planned until I find out what Mateo wants to "discuss." After our fight – the first one I've ever had with him in nearly two years – I did a lot of soul searching and analyzing the unexpected changes that have occurred in my life since I left college. It all seemed so simple once. Now I feel I'm on the brink of yet another change. Where is this one going to take me?


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two:** Broke But Not Broken

This was the first time Nydia and I had been invited to a MOPS play date. MOPS stands for Mothers of Preschoolers. I was the closest thing to a mother that Nydia had and realizing that was a little earth shattering for me. I tried to keep my attachment to her in perspective but it was a losing battle every time I tried. I wanted desperately to make a good impression on the real mothers so I made a snack to take. For the moms I made Just Peachie Bars.

I took an eight-ounce tub of refrigerated crescent rolls and separated the dough into two rectangles that I pressed into the bottom and a half-inch up the sides of an ungreased 13 x 9 inch baking pan. I set that to the side and blended together eight ounces of softened cream cheese, one quarter cup of sugar, three tablespoons of all-purpose flour, one tablespoon of lemon juice, and one egg until everything was light and fluffy. I spread the mixed over the dough and baked it at 375 degrees F for about twenty minutes. When I pulled it out of the oven I topped it with a little more than a half cup of peach preserves, the tail end of the last jar my mother had put up. I put the pan into the refrigerator to cool until I had finished feeding and dressing Nydia.

For the little ones I brought a grab bag of mixed animal crackers, Teddy Grahams, Cheerios, and mini rice cakes. I should have just left everything separate. One boy had milk allergies and could only eat the animal crackers. A couple of others had wheat allergies and could only eat the rice cakes. Another was on a reduced sugar diet and could only eat the Cheerios. And the rest fought over the number of Teddies they got in their handful. This was a totally different dynamic than I was used to but it was still kind of fun … not counting the squabbles over headless crackers. When it was time for Nydia and I to leave we were encouraged to come back and I was giving it serious consideration.

Nydia babbled and talked all the way home and we walked through the door the same time Mateo did with a bag from the local Chinese take-out restaurant.

"I thought you could use a break. We can eat out of the cartons on the lanai table."

I love Chinese food, and was grateful not to have to cook, but I was nervous about our meeting and suspicious of his good mood coming as it did after a week of being shut up in his office all morose.

"Are we celebrating something?"

"Possibly. That's what we need to talk about."

That gave me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don't know what I was so upset about. I knew the only purpose to our partnership was Nydia's custody. We'd received the final decree already and the adoption was on the fast track after Nydia's biological father had hunted up Mateo's lawyer out of the blue to sever his parental rights. It seems I had been correct; he hadn't wanted anything to do with fatherhood and never had. He claimed to be a "free spirit" and the lawyer confidently said that he was "free of something all right, mostly intellect and commonsense." She said he went on and on about hearing God tell him it was his job to sow the seeds but not his job to cultivate them; thus his total lack of cooperation in the custody battle his parents put up. Mateo said it sounded like he'd finally overdone the mushrooms or LSD or whatever it was he was last into.

"Have a seat," Mateo said in his deep rumble that just barely hinted at his mother's Hispanic heritage.

I turned from putting Nydia in her high chair to find Mateo holding my chair for me. He had never done that for me before. He was always a gentleman and had suave manners but he'd never gone that far in my memory. So I sat and settled only to find him passing me a can of pop and a carton of pork fried rice, both my favorites.

"Did I get the order right?"

It took me two tries before I could say, "Yes, thank you."

I wanted to ask him how he knew but couldn't seem to form the question well enough to set voice to it. I gave up when Mateo started eating. We both took turns feeding Lo Mein noodles to Nydia.

"Leah, I have some papers for you to sign."

I stiffened my upper lip and took the pen and papers he'd passed my way. I gave it a cursory look and then picked them up to look more closely.

"These … this says …"

"You're the only one she's ever known. I'm not sure what my niece would think but I know my sister would approve. She had originally expected my niece to give the baby up for adoption but she and my brother in law supported her decision to keep the baby at the eleventh hour."

"Mateo … are … are you sure?"

"Why? Have you changed your mind?" I heard concern creep into his voice.

"No! No, not at all. I … I just expected …" I stuttered then became too choked up to continue.

"Expected what?"

"Everything is going your way now. You … you don't need me anymore. I … I thought you wanted me to sign papers that pertained to … severing our partnership."

A brief pause from Mateo and then he asked, "Is that what you want?"

"I said that is what I expected."

"But is that what you want? Haven't things been going well? Aside from our argument last night that is. Leah?"

I wiped my mouth on my napkin and then put my hands, clinched tightly, under the table in my lap where he couldn't see them. "I said that is what I expected. I didn't … didn't say that … that is what I wanted."

"Oh. Well. Then … then after you've signed those papers I have … a … uh … proposition for you to consider."

The papers were an addendum to the adoption packet adding me as a petitioner. Mateo was listed as father and I would legally become Nydia's mother in my own right and not just because we were married. It gave me all the "rights and responsibilities thereof." I was having a hard time believing he had thought to do this. I had gone from nanny to auntie to mommy all in the space of a month.

Nydia was falling asleep in her sippy cup so we washed her up and put her down for her nap and then we went to his office to finish our talk. Instead of sitting with his desk between us as we normally did Mateo guided us to the small leather sofa pushed against the opposite wall.

"Leah, I didn't plan on things occurring in the sequence in which they did. It's put my plans into a tailspin. I had hoped to be able to settle a larger amount on you but if you hear me out we … we might be able to come to a mutually satisfying arrangement."

A little disappointed I said, "Mateo I've told you numerous times that I did not do this for any type of remuneration."

"I'm aware of that Leah but you're my wife and it is my responsibility to see to your welfare."

He startled me by saying it that way and the words left my mouth before I'd given them full thought. "I'm not, not really, and we both know it."

"Not what?"

"Your wife of course. This is a partnership, an … an arrangement to protect Nydia. You are under no obligation to me to …"

"Leah let me cover that in a moment. First things first."

I had no idea what he meant by that but I let him continue. "I've spent the last week going over everything. This house was a foreclosure when I bought it at auction." I had to smile. Mateo is as fond of auctions as some men are fond of football and puts at least as much energy into them. "I refinanced fifty percent of the asking price right afterwards with a ten year amortization on a five year note. The balloon payment is coming due in four months and I planned to cash in some of my investments to cover it but I'm going to cash out my stock in the firm instead. My contract guaranteed a minimum amount cash in value and that should cover most of the pay off if I do it this week. I'm well passed the pre-payment penalty restriction and what the stock doesn't pay will be covered by a CD I set aside for emergencies."

I wasn't sure what response I was supposed to make to this. Mateo had never discussed anything of this particular magnitude with me that didn't pertain directly with Nydia.

"Are you interested in what I'm saying at all?" he asked and I heard a little hurt in his voice.

"Mateo … do … do I have any right to be interested in this? I don't want to say the wrong thing or ask an inappropriate question."

He got an odd look on his face then a light seemed to go on. "Leah when we agreed to marry I was fully committing to the arrangement. I realize that you are young and unless I'm mistaken, inexperienced. I've obviously not handled this as well as I could have."

I wasn't sure if I resented his over simplified assessment of me or not. I did know I was embarrassed when he put his arm on the sofa behind me and moved closer.

"Leah, you are my wife by my offer and your acceptance. My offer included all that the position entails including knowledge of and access to my assets. I have nothing to hide from you. I would like you to share my interest in the financial success of this marriage. I had thought you would find it interesting considering your past participation in the housekeeping budget."

"It's not that I'm not interested. Not at all. I just … just …" His arm had shifted a little lower on the sofa and was now a light weight against my shoulders. "Um, I'm interested but I'm not sure exactly … um …" I couldn't seem to think with him sitting that close, at least not about what I was supposed to be thinking about. Two years and some months suddenly seemed a long time since I'd broken up with Hank and it was hitting home that I was a married woman now.

"Then I don't see a problem." He sat back giving me some space and I'm not sure if I appreciated it or not. "We'll work through this. I just want you to know I have the housing aspect of my plan covered."

At that point I felt compelled to ask, "Housing aspect? Maybe you should explain about your plan so I can avoid stupid questions."

"I don't foresee you having a problem with that Leah. You are intelligent, thank God, and have always been intuitive to my instructions."

Oh brother. I may have suddenly discovered that Mateo had the ability to curl my toes but there is no getting around he can be a piece of work sometimes. It wasn't all that surprising that he was on the other side of thirty-five and still unmarried before we fell into things if that was the way he talked to all the females in his life. Carmen had called him spoiled by his mother and sister. I'm not sure I would go that far but he'd never had to moderate that extra bit of male arrogance he tended to cart around either.

"My plan on its face is a basic one. Shelter, food, transportation, and long term financial security. However my roadmap to the goals have developed some unexpected detours in the last few years. My advancement to the position of VP and my father's death coincided at roughly the same time. I was going to have Mother move in with me. In fact I bought this place with her in mind because of the in-law suite that is now used as the nursery and your bedroom. I wanted her to have a better home than my Dad had been able to afford after all the sacrifices she had made over the years. He had worked forty-six years at sixty and seventy hours per week for the same company and then died just a year after retirement a miserable old curmudgeon because he didn't know what to do with himself. Mom surprised me by preferring to live with my sister and brother in law. She got sick two years later and again I was going to move her in here so that she could have full time help but she never left the hospital. Then my niece … well, you know that story … and then Nydia, and our situation, and now I've been forced through no fault of my own to leave the firm I had expected to be made a partner at in the not too distant future. The changes have been quite daunting. I know you can commiserate with me there."

His acknowledging my own unexpected life events made me realize that he might know more about me than I had thought.

"Be that as it may, I still have to deal with the way things are now rather than what I expected them to be by this time. And this is where I hope we can work together." He got close again but I was starting to enjoy it.

"I've found your ideas for budgeting fascinating. The experiments have garnered more success than I could have imagined." High praise indeed. "I was wondering if … well, if there were other ideas that you had that you haven't mentioned."

"What kind of ideas?"

"Hmmm. Actually I suppose I should apologize for invading your privacy but I was looking for Nydia's sunbonnet last week and I noticed the books in your room. Rather unusual reading for a young, unmarried woman."

"Books?" I squeaked. I was desperately trying to remember if I'd left any of the bodice-ripper type romances that occasionally tempted me out where he could see them.

"Yes. _Gardening in Florida_ , _Solar Power in the South_ , _Homemade Mixes Made Easy_ , _Cooking from Scratch_ , _Food Storage Made Easy_ , _Fortifying Your Castle_ and those are just a few of the titles I can remember off the top of my head."

"Oh … oh those books," I said relieved. "Mom and Dad were fond of giving me books as gifts once I got old enough to appreciate them. They were for my hope chest. Some of the older ones actually belonged to my parents and were well-used parts of their own library."

"Hope chest?"

"Mmmm. A dowry chest? A place … mine was actually a cedar chest my father made for me, the big one you helped me shove into the corner of the storage locker … where girls save linens and household items to take with them when they start homes of their own."

"Oh … I see." But it was pretty obvious he didn't.

I smiled at him and said, "Don't worry about it. It isn't much in fashion these days though it seems a shame. Young married couples wouldn't have to be so dependent on gifts or credit cards to start their homes out with if things were saved up in advance."

"See, that is precisely what I'm speaking of. You have a rather unusual way of looking at things that I find fascinating." I nearly laughed again at the back handed way he always delivered what I'm sure he considered a compliment. "If you had funds, not unlimited but significant, to implement some of the ideas from those books, what would you do?"

"Hypothetically?"

"Yes … and no. Take this house for instance. It sits on a two and a half acre narrow rectangle with a half acre of that being lowlands with a pond that feeds into the swamp back there. What would be some of the first things you would do if you were to have your own way?"

I realized he was serious so I gave it some thought. "First I would do something about the fencing. The gate and fence at the road are in great shape but the fences that run on the east and west sides of the property are pretty sad. I'd leave the hedges at the front but maybe see if the neighbors want to split the cost of running a new post and nine gauge mesh fence that you could have professionally installed; those require stretching so that they hang and level properly. If they won't split the cost then I say you put in concrete block pillars that you pour solid and stucco over and then hit up those auctions you are so fond of and buy up some old six or eight foot wrought iron fence pieces. Nothing fancy because of what I would do next. Regardless of the type of fence I would string an electric wire – or two – along the fence at the bottom and then about chest high of those big dogs next door and power them with a 12V solar fence charger. Then on top of that I would plant the whole length in fruiting brambleberries like blackberries or other native fruit species."

"That's just the first thing you would do? Leah, fencing is expensive. I've priced it since those two fence sections have bothered me as well, especially now that Nydia is walking … running … all over the place."

"That's where the auctions come in. It may take a while and the fence pieces may not all match but some of that can be disguised with a little welding here and there. The block pillars are no big deal … hit Home Depot or some other building supply place – there are actually cheaper supplies at the concrete plants if you know who to call – get a wheel barrow, shovel, some sand, a good level and some ready mix and you're in business."

He laughed, "In business with whom?"

I stood up and gave a bow. "Leah, surely you aren't suggesting that you …"

"Mateo, my Dad did everything around our house … I mean everything. He even built the addition behind the garage and his workshop in the back corner of the lot. You saw them for yourself. Could you tell they weren't hired out?" At his negative head shake I continued, "I didn't have a brother and Dad had to have someone to help him. Besides, I was Daddy's little girl and I lived for his approval. He taught me to use every tool in his shop and make lots of household repairs. About the only thing construction-wise I don't like to do is change electrical breakers out but I can do it if I must. I can also change my own oil and brake pads on my car. I just take it over to Bea's brother's garage to do it so I don't get oil on your drive way."

The shoulder lifted away from me again and I was suddenly aware of how unfeminine all of that must sound. I felt like I had been a braggart and was trying to figure out how to undo the damage when he startled me by putting his finger under my chin and really looking at me for what seems like the first time. "I had no idea Leah. And you didn't need to go to your friend's place. Saving money is nothing to be ashamed of."

I tilted my chin up a little further out of his reach and said, "I'm not ashamed of where I come from Mateo. And I'm not ashamed of what I do to save money. In fact, I make it a policy to avoid doing things that I would be ashamed of."

"Until you married me."

"It isn't being your wife that I'm ashamed of Mateo, it is the lie that put us here. It was wrong and … but it's over and I can't go back and change it. I just don't want to make it worse by pretending things are different from what they are. I made a fool of myself over a guy once before and do not want to do that again. We're partners. That means … that means a lot to me Mateo. But you'll have to forgive me as I'm still learning where the lines are drawn."

"Then let's avoid drawing any lines for the moment." He was getting in my space again and ran his thumb across my bottom lip. Then he shook himself and sat up straighter and the moment passed like it had never happened.

"After the fence what would you tackle?"

I felt like smashing a pillow down on his head but I supposed it was for the best all things considered so I went on. "The barn would definitely be next. It could be sinfully useful. I'd follow that with raised garden beds."

"That barn is a death trap Leah. It needs to be torn down."

"No it doesn't. Who told you that? That guy that was here last year that wanted to sell you that steel storage building that looked like an airplane hanger? What a shyster he was. The barn's frame is perfectly sound, no termites, and the supporting posts are sunk deep in concrete. The metal roof doesn't have a single leak. The walls and stalls on the other hand need work but most of that is just cosmetic. I assume from the … evidence … the people who owned this place before kept horses. That's what all of the holes and wear and tear are from. Blasted beasties are more trouble than they are worth."

"You don't like horses?"

I shrugged. "I don't dislike them either. I spent a summer in middle school working at a local boarding stable. For every smart, well-behaved horse there were five that were barely fit for dog food because their owners didn't train them properly or give them the right attention they needed. They can be nasty … and not just to clean up after either. When one of those animals bites you, you know it, and you never forget it either. They are temperamental and require a great deal of doctoring due to parasites and physical ailments. And people don't realize that horses are terribly expensive to maintain and feed properly. They are large animals and require the right feed in the correct balance and in the right amount. I saw too many skinny or bloated horses where the owners tried to hold down expenses by not feeding their animals correctly. I'm sure there are people out there that can raise and tend to horses the way they deserve but I didn't meet too many of them. I guess it just left a bad taste in my mouth that continues to this day."

"So I see," he replied, heavy on the sarcasm.

"Let me guess, you're a horse person."

He snorted and shook his head, "No. But Rachel was so I suffered through attending races and riding her father's thoroughbreds around their acreage in Pasco County just to keep the peace. You're right though. I watched her go through an ungodly amount of money on those animals and on the tack she had for them."

The mention of Rachel's name was the last cold bucket of water I needed to leave fantasyland and return to reality. "For the new barn siding I would cut out any rotted wood and then re-side the whole thing using concrete board. Before I did that however I would dig out the old horse bedding that is rotting in the stalls and have a concrete floor poured."

"Have it poured?"

"That much concrete you'll get a better pour if you hire the concrete to be pumped into place. It'll also be cheaper than making up a bag or two at a time. Have them add that fiberglass stuff to the mix and before it goes in I would form it up and lay a floor drain in each stall in case you want to be able to just hose the place out to clean it. My dad had a couple of floats and I know I put them in storage with his other tools; we could use them. You smooth the concrete out after it is poured and then you give it time to set up and then float the surface again a time or two depending on the finish you want it to have and … uh … I'm speaking Greek aren't I?"

"No. My father started out in maintenance years ago and did most of the stuff my mother asked him to around the house, and some she wished he hadn't. I … I just never learned how. He said I made him nervous and that it was just faster for him to do it himself."

"Sounds like what my uncle used to say to my Dad when he would catch him teaching me to do something. All of my cousins are pretty but useless, even the guys. They're all professionals and they consider it beneath them to do some of the things that my parents taught me to do for myself. Uh … I didn't mean ..."

He laughed and said, "It's all right Leah. I'm well aware that now that I'm not bringing in the salary I was before I'm going to need to make some changes." Mateo was making notes as I spoke. He was typing one fingered on this little gizmo I knew was the latest incarnation of the electronic personal assistants on the market. He saw me looking and said, "I never gave you a wedding present. You'll love this."

He went over to his desk, opened the big bottom drawer, and pulled out this box and handed it to me. "I got them on sale. Open it." When I did I found there was a twin of the one he was using. "Here's the owner's manual," he said handing me a CDrom. "And I had them set it all up for you. All you need to do is name it. Look, we can even sync them together and share our notes. It comes with free and unlimited texting so we can reach each other at any time without using our cell minutes. And here is a case for it. They only had black. I asked if they had pink but they don't carry it in that color."

I was already a little overwhelmed at the gift as I knew those things were not cheap, on sale or not, but the issue of color caught me off guard. "Why would you want pink?"

"Not for me, for you. Women like pink."

I laughed, "This woman doesn't, not particularly anyway. Black is definitely more appropriate. It won't show dirt as much."

"That's what I told the salesman. I told you you were intuitive."

I was something all right but I hadn't figured out what. Crazy more than likely. Mateo continued on for a while on how we could make notes on the gizmo and then sync them to the computer where he could copy and paste the notes into an Excel spreadsheet he had created. Before he completely lost me in the intricacies of excel formulas and graphing capabilities we returned to the original topic.

"Leah, this is going to be great. I was worried at first but I believe that if I invest in our partnership we can easily turn a profit that I can then reinvest in options that will still meet my goal of financial security before retirement. Of course I'll continue to look for income potential now but my severance package is adequate if not extravagant despite me being vested at the firm and that should, combined with the current assets, give me some flexibility."

Nydia decided that she'd had enough nap at that point and we left to get the princess up. He walked into the small sitting area on one end of my bedroom that connects to the nursery and asked if he could borrow some of the books. I said of course and he returned to his office with a seemingly new lease on life.

After he left and I had pulled out Nydia's blocks for her to play with – her favorite game of the moment was to stack them as high as they'd go and then squeal with glee as she knocked them over – I sat down and looked at the gizmo that I decided to name Spot. It was making some odd noise that turned out to be a text … one of many I received that day … asking me if I knew this or could I really do that or if I had started on something called a "food storage plan."

By dinner time I was ready to put both Spot and Mateo in the doghouse but he was so enthusiastic as we ate the leftovers from lunch that I just couldn't make a big deal out of the constant interruptions to my own work schedule.

"Leah, have you read these books? They're so full of ideas I can't decide what to start with first."

"Whoa. Trying to do too many things at once is a bad idea, you'll get overwhelmed and …"

"Don't worry. Multi-tasking is my middle name."

"I'm not worried about your capacity Mateo, it's that it makes more sense to try and figure out what you want to do and then the best order to do it in relation and correlation to other projects that you want to do."

"Of course." I'd managed to offend his sensibilities. "I know that … hmm, what did that food storage book call it …Prepping appears to be very similar to investing and buying insurance. I'm well versed in both. I'm not a complete ignoramus on the subject you know."

"I know you aren't and that's not what I was inferring but wouldn't you rather do things once than have to redo them when you have to go back and change something because you found your plans keep changing?"

I'd finally managed to pique his interest. "For example?"

"All right, take the food storage plan you wanted to know about. First, how long do you want to prepare for? Two weeks, two months, six months, a year, or even longer? Once you've decided that then you sit down and figure out how much food that actually means … and it isn't just food. You have cleaning supplies, paper goods, the list can seem endless. Next, you have to decide what food you want to store. My mother was of the opinion that you store what you eat and eat what you store and she went from growing season to growing season. On the other hand I've met people that believe that long term storage foods are best to serve as a long term fix-it-and-forget-it option. I'm a middle of the roader on it; rotate everyday items for the bulk of your short term storage, call that the three to six month mark. Then add mid-range items like large supplies of staple goods like rice, flour, dried beans and cornmeal to piece out the foods with a shorter shelf life to meet something approaching a six to nine months goal. And finally top off with truly long term food items like freeze dried foods in number ten cans or super pails which could bring you to a year or longer goal. But even after you find out the how much and the what you have to figure out the financial end of things. I'm not sure that even you could afford to buy a full year of food storage for a … a family … of, um, the three of us … all in one fell swoop once you add in all of the non-food items that would be necessary to have. So you would need to figure a plan of when, what, and how much to buy that would fit the budget … fit the budget that is also supposed to include all of those other big plans you are talking about implementing."

He was getting an odd look on his face but he was definitely listening. "And we aren't even done there. Having all of that stuff is well and good … there isn't too much that I can't figure out how to turn into a decent meal … but you need to figure out what you expect me to cook it with – wood, gas, electric, solar, what fuel to use with each, how much of that to store, and spare parts in case of any break downs – and you need to have a place to actually put what you are storing."

I am now firmly convinced I know absolutely nothing about men. By the time I was finished he had this predatory smile on his face and I had a feeling it was either run or face the consequences real fast. "Have you ever been dancing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did what's-his-name ever take you dancing?"

"Hank and I went swing dancing a few times. What has that got to do with anything?"

"Leave the dishes for a few minutes. Nydia is half asleep already. Let's put her down for the night and then I'll show you."

I'd already given Nydia her bath and fed her earlier. If I waited to feed her on the European hours that Mateo often kept she'd be cranky and starving by our dinner time and no fun at all. She was satisfied with one reading of "There's a Monster at the End of this Book" and lights out was easier than it normally was. Mateo guided me back to the family room and he put some music on that sounded familiar but that I couldn't quite place.

"My Mom and Dad were introduced at the old Cuban Club in Ybor. Every anniversary for as long as I can remember he would take her to the original Columbia Restaurant for dinner and then out dancing afterwards. Relax, you'll like this."

OK, so maybe Mateo isn't quite as clumsy with women as he sometimes appears. We danced for a good twenty minutes looking like something out of an old 40s movie when his cell phone rang. Very few people have his cell number and he answered it without checking to see who it was since it could only have been an emergency. His demeanor changed in a flash.

"Rachel. Stop talking so loudly, I can't understand a word you are saying."

Then I was left listening to a one sided conversation as he sat on the sofa and I went into the kitchen to put the dishes in the dishwasher.

"You're where? … (dead silence) … Yes, yes I'm still here. … What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? … No, no I'm not dancing with glee … No, not that either. Where's your fiancé? … Oh, well, you're better off without him if this is how he is going to act … That really isn't possible Rachel … No. … Circumstances have changed Rachel, you know that …" and then he stepped into his office and quietly closed the door. He was still on the phone an hour later so I turned off the stereo, set the alarm since it was quite late, turned off the lights, and went to get ready for bed.

I was trying very hard not to think about anything by working on next month's menu and doing an arithmetic exercise where I took the current month's and the next months menus and then worked out the grocery list and multiplied that by various times to try and get an idea of what a short term food storage plan would cost using today's prices. I was finally growing too tired to worry about it when there was a knock on my door.

"I saw your light on. I'm … I'm sorry for the interruption."

"That's all right. You and Rachel … you have … there's a lot of history there."

He leaned against the doorframe but only "Humphed" and I had no clue what it was supposed to mean.

"Is … it sounded like she … If you don't want me to ask just say so."

"No. It's all right. Mr. Lazaro was arrested this afternoon. Rachel's nice safe cocoon is coming all unraveled. Her fiancé broke it off in a text message and asked her to keep her distance until after the furor dies down. Her mother has basically left the planet for a while and it looks like her brother might have been involved as well though he hasn't been arrested yet. She wanted me to come down and help her figure out how to bail her father out."

"Isn't that what lawyers are for?"

"Their family lawyer has 'strongly suggested' they find another lawyer which is just another way of saying find one or I'll quit and leave you high and dry." This time he ended the statement with a snort.

"Are you … are you going down there?"

"No."

"Oh."

I realized suddenly that I was standing there in my night gown and housecoat. The reason I realized it is because Mateo said, "We never finished our dance."

"Uh …"

"I meant it Leah. I agreed to this being a real marriage. And we never got around to discussing my proposition." And then his cell phone went off again. But this time he hit the ignore button and turned the volume to silent as he took my hand and pulled me back down the hall to the family room. He gently pushed me onto the sofa and then pulled an ottoman over to sit in front of me.

"How would you feel about me courting you?"

"What?!"

"Courting you. How would you feel about that?"

"Courting … um … that's … that dating. I think we've … that is I mean …"

He got that predatory smile on his face again and then said, "I said courting and I meant courting. I'm well aware that it is going to take some convincing to get you to realize we have a good thing here Leah. Look what we've already accomplished just talking today? All of these plans. All of these goals." He was getting in my personal space again and breathing wasn't any easier than it had been last time. "I think I'll enjoy the challenge of convincing you how much … further … we can go. It's going to take a little … cooperation … on your part however."

The temperature in the room was definitely going up. I was all set to fall for it hook, line, and sinker when there came a banging on the front door that made us both jump.

Mateo growled, "What the?!" before leaving me to go find out who it was.

I followed him and then heard him curse before opening the door. Rachel practically fell in completely hysterical. "You didn't answer your phone. No one is answering their phone. Not now. I told you I needed help. I can't do this." And on and on. She never even saw me.

I took one look at Mateo's horrified expression as Rachel tried to climb all over him and knew I was going to have to get involved. I grabbed her arm and turned her around. "When's the last time you ate?"

"What?! What are you doing here?!"

Oh boy, she'd been drowning her troubles and when she breathed in my direction my eyes watered. "On second thought, I think a pot of coffee would be more the thing. Come on. Mateo, make sure she didn't crash the gates." That brought his head around and sent him out into the night in a hurry as I got Rachel poured into a kitchen chair.

Two pots of coffee later, the arrival of a taxi, and a call to the Lazaro's house staff to let them know she was on her way and Mateo and I were exhausted by all of the drama. I washed out the coffee pot and the mugs and turned to find Mateo still sitting at the table with his head on his arms. He groaned, "This is most definitely not how I planned this to go."

"The key to success if flexibility."

"What?" he groaned.

"One of the things my Dad used to say. He had a few that I heard so much as a kid that I swore I'd never say them to mine … but I find myself repeating them all the time lately. 'Any job worth doing is worth doing well. In for a penny, in for a pound. Good fences make good neighbors. Anything worth having is worth working for.' And if you add the stuff my Mom used to say that list gets pretty long." As tired as I was thinking of my parents still managed to bring a smile.

"I like that last one."

"Huh?" I asked right before he stepped up to me and kissed me full on the lips.

"Thank you for not having hysterics over Rachel. I've never seen her like this. I … I owe her a bit of … something. I'm not sure what but … I don't mean for it to interfere with what we are building."

"Um. OK." I mean, what was I supposed to say?

Neither one of us got much sleep, he in his room and me in mine. I had learned that he could make my toes curl all the way up to my knee caps but I don't think either one of us was in the mood to go "courting" after those hours trying to sober Rachel up enough to get her home in one piece.

Nydia's alarm went off early which meant I had even less sleep and I stumbled through the morning after checking to make sure someone had come to pick up Rachel's expensive little sports car. Mateo lurched into the kitchen about ten AM in search of coffee and told me, "You shouldn't have let me sleep. I could have helped with Nydia or something."

"Just … could you watch her long enough for me to grab a shower? I can still smell Rachel's … perfume."

"Sure. Take your time. I'm going out to the barn to measure things up."

I showered and took him at his word and took the time to wash my hair. I combed it out and put it in a long braid and then went outside to see if they were ready for me to fix lunch. I found Mateo sitting with Nydia on the steps of the pool and neither one was the least bit happy about it.

"What happened?!"

"Fleas! The barn is infested with them. I didn't notice until Nydia started crying about 'itchies' and by the time I got to her she was covered with them. I looked at my own legs and it was nearly as bad. #$% …" he stopped, embarrassed when I gave him the eye for cursing, especially in front of Nydia. "They're that bad Leah. I'm going to have to call out an exterminator. Lord knows how much that is going to cost."

It was mostly frustration and being upset that Nydia was covered in bites that made him come off like a miser. "Don't call an exterminator. I'll try borax first and if that doesn't help I'll run over to the Do-It-Yourself-Pest-Control store on Armenia Ave and Busch Blvd."

"How much is that going to cost?"

"Borax is three or four dollars a box unless I have a coupon for it. It'll take five or so boxes to treat the first time. If that doesn't work Dad used to buy this stuff called Demize; a small bottle cost about fifty dollars and covered about fifteen thousand square feet if I remember correctly."

"Oh. That is cheaper than an exterminator. Does it really work?"

"Dad put it on the yard once a year to keep the sand fleas under control. The people on either side of us had animals and it could get pretty bad. Mom used the borax inside for silverfish and all kinds of pests. It's better than using unnecessary chemicals, especially with Nydia poking into everything. I've got three boxes here we can start with since I use it for the laundry detergent. Let me go put on some long pants and go out there and do it."

"I should …"

"Mateo, look at you. You're already covered in bites and Nydia wouldn't let you go even if you wanted to. Let me do this while you take her in and put some calamine lotion on her. You'll have to pretend it's finger paint or she won't stand still for it. And change in the utility room please and toss your clothes straight into the washing machine. The last thing we need is to get fleas in the house."

While Mateo did that I put on my lightest colored pair of jeans, used duct tape to tape the bottom of my pants to my socks and then sprayed my shoes, pants, and the rest of me with insect repellent. I took a chipped mason jar and an old ring and used seal to the kitchen, grabbed the ice pick and made a homemade flea powder dispenser by popping holes in the lid and screwing it onto the jar after I had filled it with borax.

What a mess. The fleas didn't jump on me because of the repellent but I could actually see them jumping around in the sunlight as it came through the barn doors. The three boxes of borax just barely covered everything and I itched like crazy from the imaginary varmints I could feel crawling all over me. Ugh.

I didn't see Mateo yet so I measured the barn walls and entered them on Spot to test out the "sync" thing that he had been so gaga over the previous day. It was pretty nifty I have to admit. I'd finished measuring and still didn't see Mateo so I went inside via the garage door and then into the utility room. I was only halfway dressed into a clean work outfit when the door suddenly pulled open and there stood Mateo. I made this stupid "yip" sound.

Macho Mateo was in evidence again and he smiled but turned his back so I could finish dressing. Notice I didn't say he closed the door.

"I got your text. You didn't need to measure the barn Leah. I was going to do it when you came back in."

"I was already out there. Besides I want you to teach me to do that thing with Spot."

"Uh …"

"The sync thing. Spot is what I'm calling the gizmo you gave me to use."

"Oh," he laughed. "Mmmm. Nice legs by the way."

I stuck my nose in the air and stepped around him and headed to the kitchen after I finished dressing in record time. "You want lunch or not?" I got another decidedly male chuckle out of him and then he said, "Sure, Nydia has already been rattling through the refrigerator looking for her carrot sticks."

"We need a lock or something for that frig. I catch her trying to get in there all the time now. She'd graze all day long if I let her."

"Tell Spot."

That's what we started calling it. Or "tell Felix" which is what I named Mateo's little gizmo. If I needed something he would say "tell Spot" and if he wanted to remind me of something he'd "tell Felix." We said it so often that Nydia picked it up and I had the hardest time explaining to the people at church that Spot and Felix weren't our pets. They all knew Mateo from where he had started showing up for church services a couple of times a month and the Felix name fit rather well by some people's opinions.

We had nearly completed four projects when the trouble started. First was the fence. The neighbors were the live and let live types. They didn't care what we did but they weren't exactly up for sharing the expense of something mutually beneficial either. The one thing we wound up having to do was ask the neighbor with the five ferocious English bulldogs to keep them penned so that we could install the iron fence pieces after Mateo had finally bought enough of them. I'd built the concrete block columns a few weeks before, after completing the frames for the raised garden beds, and they were nice and cured and had even gone through some rain storms. Mateo was getting frustrated because it seemed a lot of old iron fencing was bypassing the auctions and going straight to the scrap metal yards but he got lucky when a private school went belly up. It wasn't fun dismantling the fence on-site but we got a better deal that way. I had to get a couple of Bea's brothers to help but they were happy for the extra work and since it was strictly day-labor type stuff we just paid them as independent contractors and let them worry about taxes and such.

The next project was the barn. Mateo and I did it ourselves. We again paid Bea's brothers to dig out and haul the old animal bedding to a weird little piece of the property that juts out into the lowlands but which isn't useful for anything else. That is the compost area. Turns out there was a good clay floor underneath that mess in the barn and I didn't have to level it out or anything. All I had to do was form it up, put the drains in, and have the concrete poured and the new solid floor was ready to use in under a work week. That's when I started the much more expensive and time consuming project of residing the barn. I could only work at it a couple of hours a day because of all of my other responsibilities.

Mateo helped but he was trying to make money to replace what was going out so he'd gotten involved in a couple of different enterprises. He was doing a little day trading which made my stomach hurt. I could always tell when he'd had a good day … and when he'd had a bad one. He was messing with precious metals a little although that had its own problems as the government had upped the capital gains specifically on PMs so that it almost wasn't worth getting into any more. He had also gotten involved in a couple of the auction places as a middle investor after talking with one of my Dad's old buddies that still did the gun shows. I don't know what they talked about but Mateo asked me what I had done with all of Dad's guns and I told him they were in storage with everything else. His eyes got real wide and he gave himself a dope slap and that's when we emptied the big storage locker and moved all of my parents' stuff into the garage temporarily until we found places for it around the house.

"Are you sure you want to do this Mateo? I'm not sure it exactly fits in with your … decor."

"This is our house, not just mine so this is your décor too. I never cared much one way or the other, some of this stuff was left in the house when I bought it and my sister did the rest of it."

It would startle me for a while to go around a corner and suddenly find myself faced with something that had been in my parents' house before I was even born but at the same time melding the two households turned out to be a lot easier than I had expected. The antiques my parents had kept from stuff they had inherited had a timeless quality and they found their own niche amongst the more modern stuff that had formerly been the only thing decorating Mateo's house.

I actually liked Mateo's house and only had a few things I would have changed about it. My main issue was that it had such clean, modern lines in the rooms that storage was a problem except for the kitchen. The kitchen was great with floor to ceiling cabinets on all four walls except where the appliances were but the rest of the house needed something but I wasn't sure what. The house was actually huge. It was built in the 90s when oversized was what was popular. It had five good sized bedrooms, three and a half baths, an enormous family room with a real wood burning fireplace, a formal living room, a formal dining room, and a breakfast nook plus a room that was built to be a library and finally Mateo's office. But, the only bedroom with a decent closet was the master bedroom that had not one but two walk ins. There were three bedrooms downstairs and two completely empty bedrooms upstairs that no one entered except me once a week to dust mop the floors. There was also an odd unfinished bonus room upstairs that hardly anyone knew about. In fact I frequently forgot it was there because the door into it was boarded over and a book case stood in front of it.

I'd first learned of that room when the air conditioner had gone out. I was working for Mateo about nine months when that happened and he literally had to walk me through so I could show the repairman where the inside units were located. They sit inside that room but there aren't any vents in there. The room gets roasting hot during the summer which is why Mateo kept it boarded up. I had ideas for that space but that would have to wait until I had more time. For now we simply stacked stuff in one of those upstairs bedrooms. The air conditioning unit that cooled the upstairs wasn't used often either to try and cut down on the electric bill which seemed to go up on a monthly basis no matter what we did. The pool was on solar power thank goodness since it had to be filtered up to seven hours a day to keep it clear; it was our main form of recreation and Mateo used the propane-heated spa almost every evening to relax. I was doing everything in my power to save money so that he wouldn't have to give up the few extravagances that Mateo had managed to hold onto.

I was well into the food storage plan without even trying because of all of the home preserved foods I had. The freezer was full and I took the time to start rotating some of the older meats out by turning them into soups that I pressured canned. Beef had bottomed out in price and actually had started to go up so I stocked up at every sale I could. Chicken was also bottoming out but eggs were now much more expensive so I learned to use powdered eggs and eggless recipes as much as possible. Pork was going down in price because there was some scare over another swine flu outbreak in the Midwest; it wasn't the one that had caused the pandemic and the panic was overblown so I took advantage of those sales as much as possible. I ran the canners at least one load a day and I'm sure that was adding to the electric bill but I prayed that the eventual savings at the grocery would offset that in the midterm.

The project that overlaid all of the others was really Mateo's. When he said he was going to court me I wish I had taken more head. We didn't "date" precisely as we had Nydia to consider, not to mention the fact that we were economizing nearly every penny at this point. We used the public library to get DVDs from or Mateo didn't mind if we watched the many different history documentaries available through NetFlix and he even set it up so that they would stream to the television in the family room so we could watch them on something besides his laptop. Popcorn is about the cheapest snack there is and we ate a lot of it, so much in fact that we went ahead and bought a fifty pound bag of kernels from the warehouse club we belonged to.

We'd be sitting on the sofa with Nydia between us to watch a documentary of something like the life and times of John Adams and she would fall asleep in our laps. He'd volunteer to take her to her bed while I freshened our glasses of homemade sweet iced tea or to pop another bowl of popcorn. I'd sit back down and he'd come back and suddenly he was a whole lot closer and his arm went across the back of the sofa. One thing would lead to another and half the time I couldn't remember the end of the show we had been watching. We hadn't taken that final step; I think we were both having too much fun getting there. He'd kiss me goodnight at my bedroom door and he'd go off to his. I'll admit to some frustration on occasion but at the same time I was very grateful for the way Mateo was handling things.

We almost made a terrible hash of it however when we went to a local festival. I'm not really one for crowds and neither is Mateo but one of his business contacts had given him free tickets and it was a good chance to take Nydia for a little kiddie fun without breaking the bank. I had only gone back to the MOPS meeting a couple of times because all that seemed to get discussed was the economy. I got enough of that at home and the time I saved by not going to the meetings wound up being better utilized working on projects around the house. The ladies were nice, I just needed a break from discussing everyone's economic woes, not more of it from other sources. Besides, gas was getting more expensive and Mateo and I tried to do as much of our running around during one trip as possible. I'd used my bike to ride to the grocery store once and it had been impossible to really take advantage of any of the sales. It was also harder to do that because it meant putting Nydia in a bike seat which gave me even less room to bring stuff home that way.

The day of the festival was beautiful. We'd been at the fairgrounds barely an hour and Nydia was already so overwhelmed and over excited that it took both Mateo and I to keep up with our little bumble bee. She was pitching an "I want" fit that Mateo was trying to deal with when I was goosed from behind. I jumped, swinging the back pack I used as a diaper bag only to have the scumbag be experienced in the move and duck.

"I knew I knew that pretty backside from some place! Leah … Honey … how ya been?"

I couldn't say a word. It was Hank and he was rocketing on an empty stomach and beer from the adult beverage tent.

"Leah?"

Mateo had come up behind me making me jump again. He handed me Nydia and then got between me and the drunk man I used to consider my Prince Charming. "I think you've had more than sufficient to drink. Perhaps your friends could find you some coffee someplace. I'll buy."

Hank and Mateo were of a size. At one time Hank could have taken him easily but not anymore. Mateo's "executive soft" had gone the same direction as his days of just sitting behind a desk. He wasn't built like a rock star but he was sure as heck a lot harder and leaner for all the manual labor we'd been doing around the property. He was also deceptively strong for his build. Hank for his part was going to pot. His once lean and mean physique from playing sports and working in his family's warehouse was being replaced by a haggard face and a beer gut.

"Oh you bought it all right. She finally put out? Was she worth the price?"

Mateo swears I growled and not a small cat growl either. Hank's brothers grabbed him by the arms and dragged him off. His youngest brother Ronnie found us later and said, "Look Leah, we're … sorry for what Hank said. He and Sheryl just separated and she's taking him to the cleaners and Dad is just about ready to fire him over it since it means that Hank may have to sell his shares of the business to give her what her lawyer's asking for."

"Fine Ronnie. Tell your family I said hello … and … no hard feelings against them if they were concerned about it. Hank is just history for me and I want to keep it like that."

"Sure, Leah, sure. Mom will be glad you remembered them."

"You're Dad not so much huh?"

"You know how it hurt him that his friendship with your Dad took a nose dive after all the stuff with Hank came out. He was bad hurt you didn't call them about your folks passing away too."

"But I did. I talked to Michelle personally."

"Oh … I guess … that was about the time that Dad fired her. He caught her cooking the books."

"Oh. Do … do you think I should call them?"

"Nah, not right now. I'll talk to them. Everything is a mess. If Hank sells the shares outside of the family we could lose control of it and … anyway, it's just a mess right now."

I was relieved when Ronnie walked away. I was a little depressed but trying not to let my old life mess with my new but Mateo sensed it. "Do you wish to leave?"

"Hmm? No, what for? That's the past. This is our present."

"And future?" he asked as he pulled a curl that had gotten hung up in my sunglasses.

"And our future," I said, finally smiling.

The day went up from there. Whatever had been eating at Nydia was finally over and she was just happy to look around whether she was treated to something or not. It was like her head was on a swizzle stick and it wasn't still for more than a second or two at a time. Her mouth ran ninety to nothing too, "Ook Nonny, ook ook at the pitty lights." She finally fell asleep in the middle of the animal act of the little circus show we had gone to and she stayed that way while Mateo and I shared an overpriced Italian sausage smothered with all the onions and peppers we could handle. Mateo was juggling Nydia trying to eat when we realized the water bottle we'd been sharing was empty.

"I'll get it if you'll finish eating and hold Nydia."

He nodded since his mouth was full. I went to a vendor that was giving away free bottles of water to advertise some purification system and was on my way back to the table when a hand grabbed me from behind. I swung around, he ducked. "That always was your favorite move."

Hank, only this time he appeared to be sober. He stumbled, "Uh, cute kid. Richie … is about the same age."

"Almost exactly if what I heard was true."

"Yeah, about that. Uh, I … I guess I owe you an … an apology."

"Let it go Hank. I …"

And without warning he grabbed me in a hug and started crying. I had no clue what to do. I tried to push him off but it wasn't until Ronnie showed up again to drag him away that I got untangled. I was rushing back to the table when I nearly barreled into Mateo.

"Was he hugging you?!"

"I haven't got a clue what he thought he was doing. Can we just … I don't know … go someplace so I can visit the ladies room. I smell like beer."

I guess we both noticed the other's reaction at the same time. He was furious and I was disgusted. I went from disgusted to upset that he'd been suspicious and he went from mad to chagrined when he realized I hadn't encouraged Hank in the least.

I still can't tell you why I was so angry except that it was just one more reminder of how things had been between Hank and I at one point. I tried everything I could but I couldn't relax and just let it go even though Mateo was obviously trying to soothe my upset by touching me and asking if I wanted different things.

Our walk had taken us to the back of the fairgrounds where the equestrian center and stables were. And who should we run into but Rachel and a bunch of her friends. We'd heard that her father had made bail and that it might never come to trial because there were some pretty high flyers involved. He'd had to sell a lot of his personal assets to make restitution but he still hadn't suffered as much nor lost as much as Mateo had. At least that is how it looked at the time.

"Matt, darling! How good of you to come see me ride! You always did know when all of my shows were."

It was like fingernails across a blackboard and it started wedging out the good sense I claimed to possess. The sound whispered sour notes that said, "He knew about the horse show, you heard him say we could bring Nydia to see the animals back there to calm her down. He knew that Rachel loves horses and you know he still talks to her because when she calls he goes into his office. What did you think this was all about? Look at her, look what you're competing with. They're 'old friends' don't forget."

I knew I had to get out of there and Nydia needed a bathroom break so I took her while Mateo continued to talk to Rachel, her friends, and even the woman I recognized as her mother that had wandered over, frail but still beautiful and looking a good ten years younger than she had any business looking. It took a while since we had to wait in a line and then it took longer still because Nydia had eaten something that didn't agree with her. By the time I got back outside there was quite a crowd socializing over there and I realized what a truly stunning couple that Rachel and Mateo made.

That awful voice started whispering again, "He loves her you idiot. You'll never be anything other than second best even though you are Nydia's mother now. No matter what you do or how long you're together he'll always love her best if he ever loves you at all." Then I remembered the one advantage over Rachel I had and I intended to exploit it. I was and always will be my parents' daughter.

I stiffened my spine, accepted my fate and went back to insinuate myself into the mass of bodies that seemed to press Mateo and Rachel ever closer together. "Sorry it took so long," when he looked over with some concern. "There was a line in the ladies' room." And I managed to say it with a calm and serene smile.

"Oh," said a twittering voice, "I'm so not ready for motherhood. I have enough responsibilities on my plate right now thank you very much. The idea of dealing with someone else's pooh on top of all of it that I have to deal with at work is just too much." Well, what do you say to something like that? The whole group laughed like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard, even Rachel.

Mateo looked down at her and said, "Then I guess it's a good thing I never asked any of you to help me raise Nydia isn't it."

Rachel, miffed at the implied insult said, "Oh don't be ridiculous Matt. You know we are only joking. By the way, what are you doing these days? No one seems to have heard that you're part of a firm or that you've started your own business."

Meow, meow. Mateo's polite mask was slipping and I could see that he was dying to say something about Rachel's old man so I stepped in and said, "I'm sure when or if you need to know Rachel, he'll tell you. Suffice it to say Mateo is putting his time to good use." I made it sound exotic and mysterious and caught Mateo so off guard that he barked a laugh, something that obviously caught everyone else by surprise. The crowd parted as he made his way to my side and began to make our excuses.

"Oh dear, must you? But we haven't seen you in over a week Matt."

Mateo responded to the woman's feathery, helpless sounding complaint by saying, "My apologies Mrs. Lazaro but we really must be going."

We'd been walking for nearly ten minutes, both of us tense with unsaid words when Mateo said, "Aren't you going to ask?"

"About what?"

"About Mrs. Lozaro's statement."

"No. You said that you owed Rachel and I have to be satisfied with that. If there is something you want me to know, then I have to … have to trust that you'll tell me."

"Bull."

I looked up and gave him the eye and looked at Nydia and then back at him. "I didn't curse and besides she's asleep again. Now why won't you ask?"

"You want me to ask? You want me to act like a suspicious harridan?"

"Well, no."

"Then there's your answer."

"No it's not. You have some reason for not asking. Rachel would have been all over it before we'd gotten two steps away from that group."

I gave him a little elbow in the ribs, not much of one since he was holding Nydia, and said, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not Rachel."

"Oh I've noticed."

That did it. I went from holding my own to being real close to crying. "Hey! Are you … come on." He put his free hand on the small of my back, steered us out of people traffic and over to a surprisingly empty bench near the llama area. Once we were seated he asked in a quietly fierce voice, "Now will you please explain to me what this display is all about?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You aren't embarrassing me. Driving me slightly insane yes, embarrassing me no. I'm asking you again to please explain yourself."

Most of the time I can ignore the way he phrases things but this was just a little too much and a tear spilled over and slid from behind my sun glasses. "Here," he said putting his handkerchief in my hand when I wouldn't look at him.

"It's an old story Matt and it just caught up with me is all."

"What on earth are you talking about? And why are you suddenly calling me Matt instead of Mateo?"

"Please …don't make a scene."

"I'll make a scene if I bloody well feel like it," he said but he moderated his voice anyway when Nydia started acting like she wanted to wake up. "Now are you going to explain this or are we going to go back to the car and go home?"

For some reason that struck me as funny, very sad funny, and I chuckled wearily as I wiped my eyes with the oversized square of linen. "You sounded just like Hank … oh not the words but the tone … when I wouldn't tell him something. His dad is the same way."

"I don't appreciate being compared to that drunken slob. Where did your common sense go when it came to him anyway?" Mateo asked obviously disgusted by the idea of me being with Hank.

The question took me down memory lane. "He wasn't like this in highschool; at least not the drinking part. He was on the baseball team, popular, and actually pretty fun to be with if you didn't mind the sports-on-the-brain crowd he hung with. Even Dad tolerated him at first. It wasn't until we graduated …" That part of memory lane was rockier and full of potholes.

Mateo looked at me just waiting. "He wanted something from me I wasn't ready … and later willing … to give. I always ignored his threats to find it someplace else because that's all I thought they were, empty threats. The first time I caught him cheating …"

"Cheating?!"

"You want to know the whole ridiculous sob story or not?" He didn't interrupt again as I continued. "The first time I caught him cheating had been after another fight on the same old subject. I wasn't ready and he was ready and raring. He went to a party I asked him not to go to, he called me judgmental of his friends and arrogant just because I was going to college and many of them couldn't afford to. After I calmed down I felt bad and decided to catch up with him. The place was crowded and I wanted to leave almost as soon as I got there but I was determined to find Hank. I kept asking and people kept pointing me along. Eventually I got pointed to a gazebo out in the corner of the yard and I went out there to find them … in progress so to speak and I ran to Bea's house for the night since I couldn't exactly go home looking as devastated as I felt. Dad would have hunted him down and filled him full of buckshot. The next day he claimed not to remember half of it and what he did remember he blamed on the girl getting him drunk and seducing him; her reputation wasn't exactly the best. He claimed that he didn't care what happened to him at that point because he thought he had lost me."

Mateo didn't interrupt but I could tell he was obviously dying to say something. "Yeah, I know. I was young and gullible and thought I was in love. I was also a grade A idiot that thought I could make it all better. But I still refused to sleep with him. The second time I caught him out we were older, if not wiser, and this time he blamed me for his walk on the wild side. He said that men had needs and I wasn't meeting his. He questioned my feelings for him and said if I loved him I wouldn't be so stubborn on the subject. The joke was on him this time however because he found out the girl had an STD. His father also found out about it when the doctor's office called asking to speak to Hank Jr. and they got Hank Sr instead. Hank's Dad tried to make it out to be my fault as well that his precious boy caught an STD and our relationship was never the same though he did try to keep things quiet from my Dad whom he was close friends with. I was convinced by then that I held some of the blame even though Bea told me I was nuts. I was too afraid of my parents finding out about my shame to go to them and talk about it which was a complete mistake. I could have saved myself a lot of heartache. The last time was during the year I taught … it was with that woman who is divorcing him. I had gotten out in the world and was beginning to wonder if Hank really was the right guy for me after all. My parents were just happy I wasn't rushing things and did everything they could to block Hank from moving any faster. Sheryl … that's her name … found out she was pregnant, her brothers beat Hank up really badly, and it all came out; my parents found out and it was a complete soap opera."

Finally Mateo spoke up, "And this came up because you saw him again? You still have feelings for him?"

"Hank?! Lord no. No, it just brought back some of my insecurities and the fact that I can be as bad as stupid on wheels when it comes to men."

Mateo opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again only to close it again. Nydia chose that moment to finally wake up and come unglued at the sound of the merry-go-round that she could hear in the distance. How on earth she heard it over all the other noise I'll never understand. We'd promised her that she could ride it and you just don't break a promise to a child. We stood up and headed to the kiddie ride area and let her ride it to her heart's content since Mateo had bought her an armband that let her ride all day for one price.

Watching her squeal in delight put us both in a better mood and we spent the rest of our time at the festival going from kiddie ride to kiddie ride until even Nydia didn't want to get on another one. We left through the gate and when we got back to my car found that someone had dinged the door and spilled some kind of syrupy drink on the hood. I looked at Mateo and said, "Now aren't you glad I convinced you to leave the Jag at home?"

"Most definitely. Though we really do need to consider getting you a …"

"We've already had this discussion. There is nothing wrong with my car. It may not be beauty pageant material but I can carry anything in it that I want and not have to worry about the upholstery and it runs great and gets good gas mileage."

I got a grunt that told me I'd probably have to listen to the argument sometime in the near future again whether I wanted to or not.

We went home, ate the meal I had left cooking in the crock-pot that morning, bathed and soothed Nydia with yet another reading of the Monster book, and then watched as she curled up with the wretched looking stuffed dog that Mateo had won for her.

"Are you sure that thing is sanitary?"

"It wasn't made in China and I sprayed it down with Lysol several times. Do you want to try and take it from her?" He shuddered in response and we crept out of her room to go to our separate rooms and clean up ourselves.

Mateo caught my wrist, "Look at you. You slathered 50 SPF sunscreen on Nydia and I but forgot to put it on yourself. Look how red your face is getting." He ran a finger down my check. "Does it hurt?"

"No. It's just a little tight like I've been in the wind too long."

"What about your lips? Do they hurt?"

Right in the middle of me pursing my lips to say no he kissed me and this wasn't the charming peck that he would sometimes give me. No, this was more like he definitely had something on his mind.

When we finally came up for air he said, "I went over to the Lazaro's home with a buyer I was introducing them to. They have several pieces of artwork that they need to unload to raise cash to meet other obligations. And just so you know, I won't ever cheat on you Leah. What's his name's loss will forever be my gain. Just remember that." And then the rat just walked away leaving me not knowing which end was up.

The next couple of days were productive ones in all areas including between Mateo and I. I think we had mutually decided that the time was right but we were stretching things out enjoying the anticipation when the blasted phone rang again. Mateo had learned to look at the caller ID before answering it but this time he did sit up and take the call.

"Dan, what's up? … no, I was still awake … You heard what?! … How reliable is this information? … Sure, sure … No, I'll meet you at the office first thing … Yeah, have the forms filled out and ready to go … Everything … Yeah, I'm sure."

When he hung up I could tell the mood wasn't coming back. "What's wrong?"

"That was a friend, you might have met him at the wedding. He has some contacts … where he shouldn't have contacts. On the news tomorrow they're going to announce that the government is going to take over all of the retirement accounts including 401Ks and IRAs to "protect" them from any more investment scandals. Dan says it is actually a ploy to prop up social security and some of the other federally financed programs. They are also going to extend unemployment benefits again but payment will be made using EBT cards and can only be used on government approved commodities. He says there is a lot more but that he'll have to explain them in the morning."

"Should he even know this stuff?"

"No. Not this far in advance and he's taking a major risk sharing it with me."

"Mateo, I hate … hate to ask, but do you trust this man? Could he be setting you up?"

He looked at me and spoke gently, "I trust him, but I'm not foolish either. I've been moving money around so that Dan doesn't know about everything. In fact, he thinks I've lost most of everything I had but … look, I need to get in the office and start doing some things. Can you fix me a big pot of coffee?"

"Of course, is there anything else I can do?"

He grabbed my arm looked me in the eye and said, "Trust me for one. It may take a week or longer for me to move what I have to move, if I have that long, but … we'll be OK. If you do want to do something however, could you get on the other computer and place orders to Honeyville and the LDS store you told me about? And in the morning, I want you to go to the grocery store and the warehouse club and spend the money I give you as wisely as possible. If anyone asks just say we're having a party or picking up a commercial order or something. If you see someone you know, try and avoid … just act natural. I should know by lunch time if I'm over reacting or not."

After I'd brought him the coffee and started keying in the online orders that we'd planned on, just not this soon, he said, "Leah, pay for expedited shipping. I want it to get here sooner rather than later and I want to be at the head of the line when the orders go out."

As odd as it sounds, Mateo wanting to pay extra to get something shipped faster is what really scared me. He used a account he'd created and we ran the online purchases through that. The next day as soon as we received confirmation of shipments and the account was emptied we closed it.

The morning found us both out the door before the sun was completely up; he to his errands and me to mine. I headed to the Produce Station that opened in the wee hours of the morning and bought everything that I could preserve in a week and some for the freezer too. As I was driving back home trying to avoid the inevitable traffic jams I got a text on Spot that said to drive into the garage and empty the car in there rather than from the driveway. I did as instructed and then grabbed my long grocery list and my coupons. First was the warehouse club where I loaded up on more than food; paper products filled up most of my car except where the carseat was and the driver's seat. That meant another drive home to unload in the garage. It also meant another stop at the gas station. Next I hit Aldi and then a couple of other grocery stores. My poor little Chevy was riding low as I pulled into the garage for the third time to find Mateo's Jag there ahead of me. I took Nydia inside and put her in her highchair and then went looking in the strangely silent house.

I found him in his office with a bloody rag pressed to the side of his face. "Oh no! What happened?!"

He looked at me with world weary eyes and said, "You got me thinking last night. I moved the money myself to speed the process up, there wasn't that much left anyway. I was just going to stop in to see Dan and tell him not to worry about it but I came in the back way and when something didn't look right I drove into a parking garage for the bank and then walked up to the top tier that overlooks the back of Dan's office. There were several cars at the front of the building all ready which was strange because his office wasn't supposed to be open yet. And then I saw them bringing some guy in a suit out the back in handcuffs. I must have watched this happen three times – they go in the front only to leave in cuffs from the back – before I had the sense to get out of there. Either Dan set me up or Dan was set up, I'm not sure which."

"That still doesn't explain the cut on your face."

"It happened at the bank. I was in there to close an account I had but apparently the bank is now requiring you to leave a minimum fee in there for thirty days before they will completely close it. The minimum amount just so happens to match the monthly fee they charge on all accounts below a certain dollar amount per new federal regulations. They also got bent out of shape that I wanted it in cash. It wasn't a lot of money but that wasn't the point, they weren't happy I wouldn't accept a cashier's check nor tell them where I was moving the money to."

"Mateo … how … did … your … face …" I ground out.

"I'm getting to that. Apparently they've already started issuing those EBT cards in place of the unemployment checks. This guy comes in to try and make a payment on his car or house or … I don't know something the bank held a lien on … and the bank wouldn't accept the EBT card. He said they have to accept the EBT card since it was from the federal government and the manager eventually came out and said that they were no more required to accept the EBT cards than businesses out in California were required to accept the IOUs the government out there was issuing before the feds went in and took over the governorship and the state legislature. That's when I noticed a lot of people were beginning to listen in. More than a few people are on unemployment these days and use their unemployment checks to stay current on their mortgages and such. There was almost a riot in the bank lobby and the idiot teller hands me all of this cash within plain sight of all of the other angry customers in line. Then someone took it in their head to try and close their account, discovered the same thing I had, and there was a mini run on the bank. Trying to get out someone slammed me into the door. The metal frame caught me on the cheek."

He'd finally moved the rag and the gash was still seeping after I don't know how long of direct pressure. I ran to check on Nydia who had fallen asleep in her high chair waiting on me, Bless her little heart, and grabbed up the big first aid kit I keep in the laundry room. It took me a while to clean it up and then use butterfly bandages to close it up the best I could but finally it stopped bleeding.

"Mateo you need to go to the emergency room. This is bad."

"That's the other thing that I've heard. There are a couple of new Executive Orders regarding health care and they've frozen a lot of private insurance policies. I went on line to check it out and something is going on. I hate to ask Leah, but I can't go out looking like this it would draw too much attention in those places. I've added to the list of things we need to get and I have a couple of … packages … that need to be picked up. I'll watch Nydia and keep an eye on things here. Could you …?"

"Of course. But … why are all these things happening at once?! What is going on?!"

"Easy Leah," he said gently, trying to calm my nerves. "It's all political as far as I can tell. They lost a lot in the last election, not enough to cut the head of the snake off but they were injured. Injured animals are dangerous animals. We're almost to election time again and just in case their prince isn't re-elected they want to accomplish as much of their agenda as possible. Some of this has been in motion for a while, just no one knew for sure when it would be enacted. Some precursor event must have occurred to rush their plans like this … or they're all idiots … either one is possible. The anger at the bank is only the start and I want to get as much locked down as I can. We'll take losses, they are already shutting down my direct access to some of my accounts, but they won't get near as much as they thought they would but we need to hurry."

The remainder of the day passed in a blur. It felt like I was running on high octane. A few people had noticed the banking restrictions but it was strangely not making it to the airwaves yet. Other people had noticed the new EBTs for unemployment. There was confusion every place I stopped as people were facing a new market dynamic. The EBTs worked some places but not others, sometimes for things they were only restricted to and sometimes you could slip things into your purchase under the radar. Regular debit cards from bank accounts started limiting number of transactions and transaction amounts and the reasoning seemed arbitrary and illogical; it didn't matter how much money you had in the bank. People would call up and find that creditors or the IRS had placed liens or holds on a portion of the account balance, sometimes people called to find out that the IRS had emptied their account completely.

Mateo gave me his debit cards for several small, local banks and had me use them until they melted. I made his mysterious stops, one where I met a man at a sandwich shop and he asked if he could help me out with my bags … only I didn't have bags, he did but they wound up in my car. When he put them in the trunk of my car, my back end went down a lot further than the size of the bags would have suggested. I pulled into Bea's brother's garage and he told me to give him the keys and he pulled it in. I was there almost an hour and was getting frantic but Mateo kept texting me that it was OK, we'd get done what we could get done. When I finally left … it was about one-thirty … I had a trailer hitch and small trailer attached.

"Leah, you're gonna have to be careful. Matt purchased the tag and everything last week but it's still a little heavier than that old rattle trap of yours should be pulling and you haven't got anything in it yet. And people are getting crazy, we've had three people call saying that someone hit them in a parking lot and wanting to know how much it would be to fix it. Momma will skin us if anything happens to you and you don't even want to know what Bea will do to us."

From the garage I went to meet this man at a storage facility in a not so good part of town. He told me to roll the windows up and not leave the car. I could fill him loading something into the trailer. When he was finished he came to the window and knocked so that I rolled it down. "Ma'am, you need to go straight home with this. Don't get pulled over. If something happens … I won't be here, there'll be no evidence that I was ever here so's there's no use saying anything about me."

The cloak and dagger stuff was a bit more than I had been prepared for but I did as he suggested. When I backed the trailer into the garage Mateo opened the back and it was full of boxes of various sizes. As we carried them into the house I noticed some of them were heavy and some didn't feel like they had anything in them at all. My nerves weren't real steady and I snapped, "You could have warned me Mateo. I was scared to death the whole way home."

Mateo looked at me and saw I had my arms wrapped around myself like I was cold. I was shaking but it wasn't from the temperature. "What? " he asked and that's when I laid into him a little about the man from the storage facility.

"He said what? Oh Leah, nothing in here is illegal … at least not yet. Greg is just … eccentric. He's a conspiracy theorist extraordinaire and has been planning for the end of civilized society for as long as I've known him. He's probably enjoying this and is wringing it for all it's worth. I had no idea he would scare you like that."

"If it isn't illegal, why all the subterfuge?"

"It isn't illegal but it could be considered unusual enough to question me and delay our plans. They've changed the federal gun laws in direct opposition to the states that have been relaxing their gun laws. Everything is a mess in the courts right now but with the IRS having direct access to bank accounts the fees and fines get taken out pre-trial and people aren't getting them back … their money or their weapons. This is ammo and magazines for your father's guns … now yours."

"And when did guns come into the plan? We never discussed that?!"

"Leak … Leah …," he put the last box down and startled me by wrapping me in a hug. "It's not the end of the world but things are changing. I'm bringing a lot of assets into the house to keep them out of government control as much as possible. That's a security issue. I have you and Nydia to think of. The security doors, Schlage dead bolts, and hurricane shutters on the house go a long way towards making the house safer but there is no sense hiding our heads in the sand. We have no idea what kind of violence these sudden changes could cause. People might simply accept it and readjust or it could be the match that lights the tender for something much worse. We have to be prepared either way."

I hadn't thought in those terms. To me prepping simply made good sense but I hadn't really followed the thought all the way through. What exactly were we preparing for? Apparently Mateo and I had been preparing for different levels of threats, different kinds of threats. When I thought of security I was thinking in terms of being able to put food on the table and gas in the tank. When Mateo thought of security he was thinking of physical threats to our safety. We both thought of security in financial terms but I had a micro outlook and his was macro and much larger in scale and scope.

"You don't have to go back out anymore, this is the last …"

"Maybe on your list but not on mine. I want to hit another Aldi since the other grocery stores' shelves were so under-stocked. I also need to go to the office supply place and I have to go to the shoe store for Nydia. I got a call while I was out that that bulk fabric order we placed is ready for pick up and I only have until the close of business today to get it for some reason. I need to pick up our pre-orders at the bookstore too. And …"

His cell phone went off and I could see him grinding his teeth, he held up his hand to stop me from talking and then answered, "Hey Dan … sorry about this morning. Did you get my message? … No? … Man, you don't know what my day has been like. … Your's too? … No, actually I changed my mind, I just can't afford to panic even if you did hear some rumors. The last few months have been hard. … I'm sure … What? … Actually I had come over but got caught up at the bank trying to get a loan to get Leah a new car, her's is just not acceptable …" He put his hand over my mouth and winked at me to take the sting out of his words and to let me know what he was saying wasn't exactly what he meant. "Actually Dan you don't know the half of it. I went to the bank and there was a mini riot over those EBT cards … yeah, they're already issuing them … I was trying to get out of the place and had the corner of a door catch me on my face … No I'm not OK. My suit is ruined and there is blood in the Jag! And to add insult to injury something is up with my insurance policy. I'm not going to sit in the emergency room for hours when I should be able to see my primary care physician, but I can't get an appointment. It looks like plastic surgery is in my future … What? … No, really I'm sure. It looks like I'm going to need the money where it is for a while to cover things if I can't hurry up and find a job … I appreciate the offer Dan but I've learned to not mix business with friendship. Once burnt twice shy … Yeah, you too. … Yeah, maybe next week but not the golf course … Oh, well, in that case maybe. Yeah."

He hung up and then leaned over and kissed where his hand had been. "Finish up. I want you home before dark. Nydia isn't used to you being gone this much and has been throwing a fit because I don't know where something called the knock 'em downs are."

"Those are her blocks; the big plastic ones in the tub in the top of her closet. She makes a mess but they'll keep her entertained for at least an hour. She's going through a destructive phase I think. Whatever you do, don't get her the crayons when she is in this mood, I'll be finding wall art for a week if you do. Speaking of that I better add more bleach, borax, and washing soda to my list."

As he walked me out to the car he asked, "Have you eaten at all?"

"I'm fine."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"I'm really not hungry Mateo I'll …"

He interrupted, "You'll go through the drive through at that awful fast food place that you like and you'll get you something to eat and drink. I'll cook rice to go with whatever it is you've got in the crockpot for dinner."

"Make that egg noodles if you are serious about helping. The directions are taped to the canister on the shelf in the pantry."

He nodded and I had my keys in my hand and was going into the garage when he pulled me back against him and whispered in my ear, "Be careful Leah. There is still a chance that I could be over reacting but …"

"But you really don't think so," I said as I turned in his embrace.

He sighed, "No. No I really don't think so. But I do not like you having to do this all for the want of a little more caution on my part, I should have moved faster."

I reached up and touched his face, "It looks really bad Mateo; all red and puffy. And it is starting to bruise. Can you see anything out of that eye?"

"It's blurry but only from the swelling I think. You better go or I'm going to change my mind about letting you out of my sight. Text me to let me know where you are at but … be circumspect in your messages. I'm beginning to feel as paranoid as Greg. This morning at Dan's must have shaken me up more than I thought. That call of his trying to pull me back in didn't help."

I paid cash for everything from that point forward and it was a good thing I had it to spend. More and more people were finding that their debit and credit cards weren't working at the checkout stands. I'd never seen so many "cash-only" lines, not even at Christmas.

I had one police officer and two of those Volunteer Corp security details stop me in parking lots to ask me what was in the trailer … I was even forced to open it or risk a citation. I was smart enough to have loaded the fabric and a few other innocuous looking things into the trailer and was able to allay their curiosity by saying that I had a table at the Arts and Crafts Festival coming to the downtown area the following week. I then acted like I was trying to sell them something which turned them off even more quickly and they let me go.

That night when I was finished with everything I could do - not everything I had meant to do - and pulled into the garage for the last time I told Mateo about it and he was furious. "That's an illegal search. They had no grounds other than intimidation to make you open that trailer," he ground out.

"What was I supposed to do? If I had confronted them you'd likely had to come bail me out. Pulling the silly female card was simply easier."

"Silly female card?"

"Yeah," I smiled despite the seriousness of the situation. "Females have one huge advantage over males. We always have and we always will. Males as a rule have been raised to underestimate us in almost every situation. They perpetuate the myth through every succeeding generation. They forget that it was the wives left behind during war that defended the home and put food on the table. They ignore what they consider anachronisms where women rise to the top military positions and credit it to birth rather than on ability. They fail to understand the stamina that pregnancy and childbirth requires saying if it wasn't for men leading the way to lower the maternal and baby mortality rates we'd be much worse off but fail to see how many women actually have survived the experience without their help."

Mateo got the stereotypical deer in the headlights look that so many uninitiated men get before they realize the real abilities of women when they bother to nurture their God-given talents.

"Most men simply assume that unless proven otherwise a female is smaller, weaker, and dumber than they are. That is a very bad assumption to make. Strength doesn't always lie in size and intellect has absolutely nothing to do with stature. So when a female finds herself in a situation where she is faced with an admittedly physically stronger male opponent and she could potentially lose more than she gained by a direct battle she uses her opponent's inbred weakness against him. They turn on their kitten power."

Mateo choked on his tea, "Their what?!"

"My Dad called it 'kitten power,'" I smiled craftily. "See only a real ogre is going to kick a kitten or intentionally do it harm. And most people forget that kittens are born with exceptionally sharp claws that they instinctually use to try and climb to safety with. Ever had a kitten climb your pants leg?"

Mateo winced and I continued, "Exactly. They can also look at you with the most darling eyes … right before they swipe those claws across your face. As for the rest of it sometimes it is simply smarter to play dumb."

I got a suspicious look, "Have you ever done that with me?"

"Only once … that stuff in the stir fry really was tofu," I laughed.

He was momentarily outraged and then realized the joke and had a good laugh at himself and then laughed harder at what the three men that had hassled me had missed when it was sitting right in front of their faces for the whole world to see.

"No wonder the best deals at the auctions always seem to be found by the women," he opined.

We finished dinner in a relatively better mood and it was good we did because it was the last bit of cheerfulness we were to have for a while. The president spoke during prime time and before he could even finish there was rioting outside of the White House and the Capitol building. Online servers went up and down all night as traffic increased to the point they were collapsing the networks; people trying to get more news beyond the canned output on most of the major news shows, people trying to access their financial accounts, people placing online orders trying to use their funds before they were locked down and unavailable, people trying to shift their funds to foreign markets, people trying to become members of forums devoted to different topics that might be considered useful during such a situation, Facebook temporarily shut down as did all of the other online communities from everyone getting online and sharing their opinions. The list of complicating problems overnight seemed endless.

And that was just online. Local news reported that the twenty-four hour supercenters had been scavenged like they'd been attacked by locusts. There hadn't been any looting but there had been a couple of near riots and some pawn shop had been firebombed for some reason. After we heard that Mateo muttered, "Covering his trail most likely."

I was so tired I forgot to ask who he was talking about. I hadn't been able to sit and listen to the news for long, I felt like I was going to fly apart. While Mateo watched and took notes … to the TV, radio, and two different computers all going at the same time in his office … I got down to work. We had emptied the trailer and disconnected it so that both cars and it could fit in the garage with the door down and Mateo had dropped all of the security doors and closed the interior shutters downstairs. The house was a mess … boxes and bags all over the place waiting to be put away who knew where. We had tried to organize things into piles as we went but I still itched to do something with it, but my magic wand and crystal ball were both in the shop and I had to prioritize things.

First thing I needed to deal with was the fresh produce from the morning. I filled the sink with water and set some of the more tender items that wouldn't fit into the refrigerator to soak in cold water until the morning. I pulled out the spare Crockpot that I had picked up at a garage sale to go with the other two I already had and filled two of them with fruit to cook down to butter for canning first thing in the morning and the smaller one I started oatmeal for breakfast. I took frozen meat out to thaw on the counter that I would can tomorrow to make room for the bags of flour and pasta that I needed to freeze for freshness and to kill any potential weevils.

Spot was incredibly handy during this whole process as it gave me direct access to the inventory that I kept. I was in the middle of calculating how many jars I needed to put into the dishwasher for the next day when the house intercom system buzzed and it was Mateo's signal that he needed me. I walked in on the tail end of a phone conversation.

"I realize that Mr. Lazaro but I have a wife and child to think of now. Surely the federal government is simply … Of course I understand the magnitude of … Yes, I understand the concerns that you and Dan have … Mr. Lazaro let me be frank. I simply don't have the assets. I had to liquidate after leaving the firm and … yes, the firm's stock as well … I know but I had no choice, you see how the economy is. … Mr. Lazaro, we may be over reacting. The government obviously has a plan, before getting hysterical we should wait and see what it is. Some of the best financial minds … Well I'm sorry you feel that way." Even I could hear the click of the slamming phone.

"What was that about?" I asked not trusting any of the Lazaro family any further than I could throw them.

"An answer to a puzzle."

I wasn't in the mood for any of Mateo's intellectual games and my face must have shown it. "Leah I think that in exchange for … something … Mr. Lazaro must have turned informant for the SEC. He either set Dan up or Dan is a willing participant. They are trying to make a case for who knows what … against individuals or possibly even against the firm in total. I must be on the list since I escaped the original net; but that doesn't make sense, so perhaps a personal vendetta by Lazaro himself. Dan failed to pull me in so Lazaro stepped in to give it a try. But this makes no sense either! Why would they go to all of this trouble?!"

"Is there some reason … besides Rachel I mean … that Mr. Lazaro doesn't like you?"

"Nothing worth this amount of effort. My portfolio always out-performed the ones he was responsible for. None of my personal clients ever took the magnitude of hits to their retirement accounts that nearly everyone else's did; I dealt strictly in conservative investments. I did openly remonstrate him for encouraging risky behavior in the firm and finally took it before the Board when he started pushing me too hard and interfering with my clients."

"And this was the man you wanted as a father-in-law? You must love Rachel …"

He was around the desk and in my face before I could finish my statement. "No, I wasn't in love with Rachel though I had everyone else convinced that I was … including Rachel though she convinced herself more than I could. She had connections, she came from money, she knew all the places to be seen and all the people worth talking to. In other words she will one day make some man a good trophy wife; some man that doesn't care that the looks will be maintained with surgery and botox and is willing to pay for her to go off and play so he doesn't have to listen to her bleating at him when he is trying to relax and eat his dinner."

To say I was shocked was an understatement but I was more shocked when he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me close. "I'm not that man any more Leah. I have no idea why God touched me and made me realize that what I wanted wasn't what I needed. I still don't understand how things changed so much that I'm more satisfied struggling today than I was when I had everything and money in the bank too. And I don't know why you were crazy enough to marry despite it all, despite that ridiculous proposal in the courthouse hallway. But I know what I've got and I intend on keeping it and nothing … Lazaro's treachery, the economy, or the government itself is going to take it away from me no matter what it takes. Are we clear on that?"

I tried to answer him but all I could do was nod. I just knew he was going to kiss me but I swear that God has a sense of humor and is driving me crazy on purpose. His face was barely an inch from mine when the emergency broadcast signal came blaring over the television and radio at the same time causing us to both to jump apart like guilty teenagers.

Martial law was declared in response to street violence and a riot that had started over in the College Hill area as well as one that set the public housing complex on Main Street on fire. Everyone was being told to stay indoors and anyone caught on the street would be detained.

The same scenario was being repeated in over two dozen major metropolitan areas across the continental US. Rather than smother the violence it set more cities aflame. The sun was coming up and I knew if we kept drinking coffee this way I'd be grateful I'd bought so much Café Bustelo and all of those dark coffee beans.

"Mateo, why are they doing this? What do they hope to gain? It's like they are intentionally inciting people to rebel."

"Possibly to break the system completely so that they can rebuild it the way they deem better. None of what they are doing makes historical sense; you said it yourself the other night. We'll lose far more than is gained if they succeed."

I shook my head and said, "It's like in the movies when some lunatic realizes he is terminally ill, so he plans to take the rest of the world with him when he goes so that no one is left to outlive him."

"Not quite. These lunatics really do believe that socialism is better, or at least the pawns of the movement do. Personally I think that the lunatics at the top know exactly what they are doing and it is all for their own personal gain … if not money then power. It's like an aphrodisiac to them, a powerfully addictive drug. They are not happy unless they have the power to manipulate other people's lives. It doesn't matter what the result ultimately is."

"Which do you consider the president?"

"My personal opinion? He's a narcissist, like several before him, with a great deal less status in the movement than he believes. He's being controlled by a movement and when they are through using him as their figurehead they'll throw him under the bus just like they have done many that came before him. Only they'll make it seem like it was done by the opposition and not even the conspiracy theorists will get it right in the end. Meathead or martyr, it won't matter."

Ugh. I couldn't take any more. I left Mateo trying to pump espresso intravenously – figuratively not literally – and went to feed and dress Nydia. The world might be going to heck in a hand basket but two year olds still need attention, laundry still needs washing, and the food wasn't going to jump into the pots and cook itself.

The rest of the day has passed in a blur. Rachel has called several times asking Mateo to meet with her father. After saying no for the third time he's stopped taking calls from her number because he never knows who is going to be on the other end. Bea called me and said that her whole family has closed up shop and is heading to their fish camp deep in the swamps of south Florida. Mateo and I were given an open invitation but it hasn't come to that yet.

Mateo finally burned out after we put Nydia down for the night. I fell asleep with Nydia for a couple of hours this afternoon and now I feel too wound up to really sleep. We've heard gunfire but not actually on our street but we are taking no chances. We closed and locked the storm doors we installed on the barn and disabled the tracks. To get in ourselves is going to be a trip but it has given me more piece of mind with all the equipment, lumber and tools we have stored out there.

I've got to sleep or I'm going to fall apart, but not until the two canners are finished processing. The kitchen is better than it was, the whole house is, but only because I know how bad it was before. Anyone seeing if for the first time would be horrified and disgusted more than likely.

I'm past tears. I'm past fear. What we are facing today is like something out of a dime-store novel. I'm almost … no I am ... terrified by what the dawn could bring.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three: All I Can Do Is All I Can Do

In the days that followed the violence was bad but sporadic rather than constant and confined rather than pervasive. The worst riots occurred where violence was already an endemic problem. Some lower middle class neighborhoods got involved but that was usually a youth movement that grew out of a lack of self-control rather than a true ideological response to what we faced. The real difference this time as opposed to the riots that occurred in the 60s and 80s was that the authorities and news media outlets (most of them anyway) tried to make it out to be for really outrageous reasons instead of blaming racial tensions. They said – without proof mind you – that "the poor, underprivileged and disenfranchised masses" were being egged on by some secret coalition of traitors against the true populist movement to distract the government from doing its duty for the citizenry of this country. Then you had those on the other extreme. They spoke of "urban pathology" and how federal and state subsidies were actually what created the disenfranchised underclass by making them over dependent on government support … intentionally over dependent. Another "reason" or justification for the rioting by the population that was supposed to most strongly support the Administration's actions was fear that their "rights" were going to be taken away by "the archaic and prejudicial suppression of the uneducated and unenlightened 'tea partiers' and the so-called 'Constitutionalist Movement'."

Mateo had some succinct and rather harsh comments regarding what some people considered rights. "Have these people ever even read the US Constitution?! Whoever is writing the copy for those reporters can't even seem to understand the difference between libel and slander; why should I trust their legal judgment when it comes to issues of Constitutionality?"

With my college degrees and experience in the public sector I could have said more as well and even cited historical documents as proof but it would have been like preaching to the choir. I was also busier than I had ever been in my life and didn't have the energy to get any angrier than I already was. I was canning and drying all of the fresh produce I had purchased. I was also drying the commercial sized bags of frozen veggies that I had gotten from the warehouse club since that saved me having to blanch the food before it went on the drying trays. I felt in such a hurry that I was running both boiling water canners and the pressure canner too; I could barely fit them all on the stove top at the same time, but I made it work. I felt like I had no choice.

After I had to pull Nydia away from the stove for the third time I kept her in the playpen or in her old highchair. She had just started using the booster seat like a big girl and wasn't happy being confined to the highchair but I didn't see what else I could do, she just didn't want to listen and the danger to her safety was too great. What is it about two year olds? I finally understand why Mom said that she had come really close to having Dad build a dog run that she could put me in between the time I was two and four years of age. I love Nydia but we've almost spoiled her and I'm grateful when Mateo can take her for a little while. He couldn't do it often then however because he was fielding phone calls, a couple from investigators from the SEC asking if he'd spoken with Mr. Lazaro.

"Hello? … Yes, this is Matt Jakob. … And you are? … Well, sir I'm rather uncomfortable speaking of this matter without verification of your identity. … OK, give me a few minutes and I'll call back."

Hearing him grumble under his voice I asked, "Mateo? Is everything all right?"

"I've got it covered. Don't worry. Just a gentleman on the phone claiming he's with the SEC. He gave me his extension and I'm going to call back through the switchboard to check his credentials."

Turns out the man really was an investigator and that it was a good thing that Mateo hadn't simply blown him off.

"Yes, I'm here … My license? … No, not since I left the firm. … No, I haven't been counseling or giving recommendations to anyone in a professional capacity … Well yes, I have spoken with some of my former clients but only to refer them to new brokers …. Yes, I'm sure … He said what?! … Absolutely not! I'm well aware that with the additional licensing restrictions currently in place I cannot operate outside of a corporate permit … I don't care whether you believe me or not. Check with the Office of Financial Regulations. I applied for the additional licensing and permits the day I left the firm … Yes, I'm aware of the freeze but I applied to get on the waiting list … No, hardly … No, that is not what we spoke of at all … No … No, I'm definitely sure. … I understood that Lazaro was the one you were investigating … On the contrary, I was far from aware Dan has been named as a conspirator in the case, thank you for the information … She what?! ... That's a #$% lie!" Striving for some control and modifying his voice he continued, "That is a total fabrication. I introduced them to a buyer from a local museum concerning some of their personal artwork and that's the last time I entered their home … No, absolutely not … investigate all you want but if what you say is true I strongly suggest you verify any of the so-called facts you are gathering because I can prove where I was at and what I was doing that morning … When I see a subpoena, because right now I'm finding your line of questioning more like you are fishing … I'll eagerly await it."

I sat there intending to give Mateo a chance to calm down before I started asking questions but he jumped up from his desk and stormed out of the room and then out the back door, slamming it against the outside wall and nearly springing the hinges. Justifiably worried at his display of temper I followed him out only to have Mateo turn around and snap at me.

He snarled, "Leah, will you just go in the house and give me some space?!"

Nydia was down for her nap and I was worried that his yelling was going to wake her so I gave calming him down a shot. "Mateo darling …"

"Leah! I said go in the #$% house! I'm this close to losing my temper and …"

I went up to him, put my hand on his arm and said, "Then go head and lose it. I trust you and know you wouldn't act like this over something trivial. I'll still be right here when you're ready to talk and we'll face it together."

The crazy edge to his anger came close to spilling over and then it just evaporated. I got jerked into a hug that nearly crushed me. That startled me at first then I started hugging him back though not as frantically. His actions confused me but at the same time they confirmed just how upset he was. He was not demonstrative in public and while we were in our own backyard the neighbors could have easily seen us at that position. It took a few moments but he did calm down a bit and then we walked back to sit in the wicker furniture on the lanai.

Mateo was still very tense but at least he was ready to talk. "Leah … I … I don't like losing my temper. You shouldn't take risks like that by being around me when … when I get like this. My mother and sister always said that I frightened them … I'm …" I leaned into his embrace and thought how awful to have your own mother say she was afraid of you. She might have been trying to help him by bringing attention to how he was acting but I think she had made things worse instead. Eventually he continued, "Try and understand Leah, I don't want to hurt you or Nydia so … when I ask for some space just give it to me even if you aren't afraid of me." Another sigh and he said, "I just don't understand what is going on. Strike that, I understand it, I just don't know why. I thought I knew Dan and could trust him. I'm not naïve. Nor am I some callow freshman investor. If I missed this, what else have I missed? Dan has been named in the SEC investigation right along with Lazaro. If Lazaro is an informant, then what does that make Dan? And what Lazaro is doing is too close to entrapment; I would think a decent lawyer could get the charges against those men dismissed easily … assuming this is meant to go to court." He gripped his hair with both hands and gave a sharp tug, very unlike himself. "What is going on and how did I miss this?!"

"First off, you are an honest person and wouldn't necessarily think that to make money you'd have to do something illegal. Secondly you are very talented at what you do and wouldn't find it necessary to do something illegal to make money for your clients or yourself. Thirdly, you were always extremely busy fulfilling your responsibilities to your clients, all of whom were much more modest in means than the clients that Lazaro dealt with. And it seems that most of the firm's board didn't know it either so stop beating yourself up over it. The man is a … a scoundrel and a scab on society. Now what do you mean "assuming this is meant to go to court"? Why arrest someone, possibly ruin their life in the process, if you aren't going to charge them and take them to court?"

"A scoundrel and a scab on society huh? Not how most people described Lazaro last time I checked," he said folding me into his embrace even tighter. "Te quiero mujer. As for why arrest them if they don't mean to prosecute … leverage, same as in business. Control. Perhaps simple intimidation. But it shouldn't be happening for those reasons. That means that either the investigators are in some way corrupt, the court system is being manipulated, or both."

The very idea turned my stomach. If we couldn't trust the judicial system what protection did we really have? Then I asked a question to clarify something that had confused me. "It sounded like you were referring to a female making claims against you. Who was she? Was it Rachel?"

"No, her mother; but it wasn't … intentional; at least I don't think so. Mrs. Lazaro is a dimwit and …"

"Mateo!"

He snorted and shook his head. "Have you ever spent any time with the woman? She is addicted to prescription meds – a functioning addict – but it does give her the appearance of living her life in a fog or haze. That airy fairy display you saw at the equestrian center was actually a good day for her. She either can no longer afford her drug of choice or she is being forced to be more circumspect in public."

"I knew Rachel's mother always acted kind of … distant … but I didn't realize … ."

"Most people don't know; like I said she is a functioning addict. And you don't have to bother to be so polite when it is just the two of us. 'Distant' is about the kindness descriptive term I've heard for her in quite some time. Trust me, I've helped pour the woman into a limo on more than a few occasions and seen Lazaro send her home from parties because she was losing her grip on reality. She also runs off at the mouth talking about things that either she has no business talking about or that she has no direct knowledge of. For instance, according to the investigator she made it out like I've been using my license and I haven't, it's not valid at the moment because I'm not covered by a bond. The question I don't have the answer for is whether this is something she came up with on her own demented walk through reality or whether Lazaro is feeding it to her as part of some game plan."

I could tell he was becoming agitated again so I pulled him into the kitchen, had him sit at the table and gave him some chamomile tea and a slice of fresh bread with jam and butter on it. I took a load out of one canner and refilled it before prepping the next batch of jars as he continued talking around mouthfuls.

"I'm still missing something."

"Something?"

"Yeah. The reason why Lazaro is so focused on me. Or maybe it isn't me … or isn't only me, maybe there are others he is doing this to. Or maybe it is my imagination, but I really don't think so." After another bite and then a sigh, he muttered, "But I can't worry about it right now even though my instincts tell me it is important. I doubt they'll send investigators out while martial law is still in effect but you can bet they will eventually and I need to have my own strategy in place."

I realized he meant they would be sending an investigator to the house and I looked around and got a sinking feeling.

"Mateo … the house. I wouldn't want anyone to see it right now just because it is so messy but I certainly don't want …"

"We can put the stuff out in the barn."

"No, someone could see us moving it. And yes," I said seeing him look at me like my tinfoil helmet was getting too tight "I'm aware how paranoid that sounds. The Nelsons are all right but the guy on the other side – Gerald What's His Name – is … well, he's nosey and he works for the County Administrator. He got a little too curious when we started putting up the fence. Don't forget he called Code Enforcement and then got bent out of shape when he found out we weren't doing anything wrong."

"Yes, I'm well aware of the problems he could cause us but I believe most of it is just envy. Gerald thinks a rather lot of himself. When I first bought the house I was very disappointed to learn how irritating he could be. And …" He stopped and then waved his hand in front of my face. "What? You're thinking of something. I know that smirk."

"What kind of mud did you pick up and how much?"

He scrunched his face up and shook his head. "Leah … Earth to Leah. Habla inglés por favor."

"Huh? Oh, you know, spackle, drywall mud, texturing; the stuff I put on the list for out in the barn."

"Spackle what? Oh, you mean the stuff in the buckets?"

"Yeah. Was it the type that is pre-mixed or do I have to prepare it with a mixer?"

"Yes and yes. I asked the man at the warehouse you sent me to and he recommended one product then two contractors who were there as well came over and started arguing about the relative benefits of the recommended product versus other products that they preferred to use finally admitting that it depended on the project as to which was most appropriate. I got … irritated … so I … uh … there is quite a bit of all the different types and brands," Mateo answered in a slightly embarrassed voice.

"That's providential! Now we don't have to worry."

"Worry about what?" Mateo asked getting slightly irritated and still trying to figure out how our conversation had gone from the SEC and Lazaro to mud … although it wasn't really that much of a jump if you are talking metaphorically.

It was easier to show him than tell him. I grabbed his hand and pulled him upstairs and into the empty bedroom that shared a wall with the boarded over bonus room. "We have to use interior walls since the house's exterior walls are made of block. It also needs to be a wall that doesn't have a bunch of electrical wires running through it. See how this wall only has the outlet on one end? The house was built before the code changed requiring outlets six feet from every corner in a room. That means I have this whole long wall to work with."

"Leah, you're making my head hurt and reminding me oddly of Greg when he starts on one of his lectures. Will you just tell me what has you so excited and leave the technical explanation for another time?"

"Hidden storage in the walls."

"Hidden … OK, maybe you had better back up and explain after all."

"Trust me Mateo, a lot of cans will fit between wall studs the way I want to put them in there. There isn't enough room in the kitchen cabinets for me to put everything away and I certainly don't want anyone outside of our family to know what we have. I can use the metal flashing we were going to use add a water catchment system on the barn, bend it to create "chutes" or channels that the cans can slide down, and nail them up between the wall studs. It will mean putting off most of the renovations that I was going to do inside the barn since I'll have to utilize those materials; but like you always say, you must prioritize your assets. What I want to do is carefully take out the drywall on this side of this wall. I'll use the 2 x 6's we have on top of the existing wall studs to give the wall more depth, that'll let us store something as large as those #10 cans of freeze dried foods that are so awkward. Then I'll cover everything the area with new drywall, texture it, and repaint with the leftover paint we used on Nydia's room last year and you'll never know the new storage is there."

"You plan to seal our supplies up in the wall?" he asked still perplexed.

"Not quite," I said really getting into the spirit of the plan. "On the bonus room side of this wall I'm going to build a chase. It's going to look like something for the HVAC system. What the chase will do is in part cover the real wires that already exist and tidy them up along with the exposed duct work but there will also be access panels that we can unscrew and take things out of the wall storage as it is needed."

Mateo looked at me blankly and then asked in a tired voice, "Do I want to know where you learned to be this devious?"

I could tell he was only half way kidding and that his pride was smarting from all of our recent troubles as well as the call from the SEC and the realization that he'd badly misjudged someone he considered a close friend. He also didn't particularly appreciate having to accept that between the two of us I was the more mechanically inclined.

"Mateo, as much as I would love to be as savvy and as capable as you are when it comes to complicated financial matters it is simply not my talent. If you hadn't worked so hard I wouldn't be in a position to do this, any of it, especially now. We certainly wouldn't have the supplies we have to work with."

Mateo sighed and said, "Leah, you don't need to … to stroke my ego. I …"

"I'm not. I'm giving credit where it is due. The only paycheck I've had in a long time came out of your wallet. The money I spend at the grocery store comes out of your wallet. The little bit of money from my parents' estate exists because you took the time to help me invest it safely. I'm well aware that a degree in Secondary Education hasn't exactly prepared me for what life has thrown at me. I was also going to say that it's nice to know I'm not completely useless when it comes to doing things to protect our family's investments."

Mateo's mood altered in under two second. "Hmmmm. I like the sound of that," he purred.

"Sound …" I had to clear my throat before I could finish. His chocolate brown eyes always tickle my insides when he looks at me like that. "Sound of what?"

"'Our family.'"

"Oh."

"Yes … oh. Now, let's explore that a little more … argh." The groan was due to the intercom on my waist band calling, "Nonny!" letting us know that Nydia's nap time was over. We both pulled ourselves back from where we were heading and eventually chuckled as we went downstairs, accepting that there are some things you simply can't avoid and responsibilities to a toddler is one of them. I spent the rest of the day preserving food, entertaining Nydia, keeping up with laundry, and popping into Mateo's office to keep the coffee pot refilled and for updates on what was going on.

Gathering "news" was a frustrating experience. One of the primary problems with using the mainstream media as an information source was that only crews with federally issued papers could be out on the streets; freedom of the press was a thing of the past. The other restriction was that they had to be accompanied by a federally assigned escort which dictated where and when they could go into areas. The national news outlets were taken over by the FCC bootlickers a few years back and they now occupied all of the senior administrative positions on all but a very few of the networks. Local media outlets weren't quite as bad though it still took a few days for the complaints that the Freedom of Speech was being violated to emerge, but by then it was too late.

The government types on both sides of the aisle were trying to write history before it happened. What most of them failed to understand was how quickly the physical infrastructure would begin to fail altering everyone's plans.

Road traffic was completely prohibited, both pedestrian and vehicular. All people movement was restricted under threat of detainment except for federally approved troop movements and those of official municipal security personnel such as law enforcement officers and "deputized" personnel from the Federal Volunteer Corp. The restrictions may have made it easier for the criminal element to be identified and picked up but it ultimately added fuel to the fire of violence because of the indirect consequences.

The first problem that came to light was that people were running out of food. The reasons ran the gamut; dependency on food pantries and other types of charities like volunteer organizations such as Meals-On-Wheels; economic deficits where people could only buy a few days of food at a time; shopping habits that only had seven to ten days of food in the house at any given time; the habit of eating most meals outside the home; etc., etc., etc. There was also the issue that many families with children depended on at least one meal a day being served at the school cafeteria or in an after school program, and not just because they received free or reduced lunches. People, confined at home as they were, ate the food supplies they did have faster than expected as well. I could sympathize with that last one as I had to curb the snacking really fast, especially Nydia who was a grazer. Some of it was nervous eating but some of it was just eating out of habit rather than because we were hungry. I had given into Nydia's pleas too often for "treats" – healthy or not – and paid the price when I had to start saying no. And realistically staying up later and getting up earlier used up more calories requiring another "refueling." I added a "tea time" snack to try and address this even though it meant more work for me.

The problems with food went beyond the individual and family unit issues. No one on the road meant no one on the road – no truckers, no bread deliveries, no fresh produce deliveries, no fresh dairy deliveries, no exceptions. That meant no new items were available at the stores to stock the gaping holes on the shelves where people tried to grab everything they could at the last minute (and no stockers to do it even if there was stuff sitting waiting to be stocked).

The complications to the situation didn't end there. The worn infrastructure in most areas of the country requires constant and consistent upkeep and maintenance. Without workers to perform this upkeep things begin to break down, often more quickly than expected. A small part in a system would break or wear out and because no one was there to replace it or throw a switch to a redundant circuit, the small part would cause another part to malfunction which in turn caused other breakdowns and malfunctions, exacerbating existing weaknesses and causing even more failures.

They did try and address this once the breakdowns became noticeable to the public. Municipal authorities, usually in the guise of public safety or emergency response, would go to the homes of the managers and supervisors of the electric companies or water departments and "draft" them to work – whether they wanted to go or not. What they found however was that jobs had become so specialized and required constant training to remain up-to-date that managers and supervisors did not have enough specific knowledge; or had no training or experience at all for the maintenance issue in question. It was a complete Chinese fire drill that contributed to the total decent into chaos that many locations – both big and small – eventually experienced.

The first that Mateo and I became aware of the infrastructure failures – I thought of those always being "in the future" only suddenly the future was now – was on the fourth morning of what was passing for martial law. Why I say it like that is because some areas of town were in virtual lockdown while other areas had all sorts of Red Cross and Emergency Aid workers running around like ants gratuitously serving a population that would have otherwise burned the city down. It was like pacifying the hellions in the classroom while the good students languished and suffered. A more clichéd description of what occurred is "the squeaky wheel got the oil."

Mateo came into the kitchen, disheveled from another long night at his desk trying to wheel and deal his money an evacuation route, and asked me, "How were you planning to take care of the water?"

I hadn't slept very much myself because I hadn't planned as well as I could have and had started a load in the canners too late for good sense. "Water?"

"A representative from the water department just issued a statement that a boil-water order is going into effect immediately and that water pressure may go down as well as brown-outs in various districts begin."

I was tired, but not that tired. "Mateo, we're on a well. We aren't affected by boil-water orders."

"Not the boil-water order Leah, the brown-outs. If we lose power, we lose water."

I think I was just getting overwhelmed. I had so much to do and no time left to do it. I felt like a dog that had been chasing its tail backwards. I slumped down in a chair at the table, laid my head down and had a brief pity party. No sooner did I feel Mateo's hand on my shoulder than I sat up, shook myself and then leaned into him after remembering I wasn't in this alone. "I'm OK. Really. I … I just need … need a hug. That's what I need. A hug. Please."

"Oh, my Leah, I'll give you as many as you crave. I would give you more if there was time and Nydia …" Mateo stopped, wrinkling his nose that the noise coming from the family room. "What is wrong with my little ray of sunshine this morning? She sounds … upset."

I wanted to roll my eyes at his understatement and the fact that he had fallen into Latin syntax again which he tends to do when he is very tired. His "little ray of sunshine" was more like a stormy morning at the moment. Nydia liked her routine. Any time her routine was disturbed she let us know exactly how displeased she was. Most of the time Nydia really was like sunshine but she had her moments of being a strong-willed termagant just like any other toddler; and that was one of those mornings. "She is upset that the Disney Channel is off the air. All of the children's programming is off the air. Nickelodeon, Disney, TV Land, and some others are completely blacked out and PBS, WUSF, and the local broadcasting stations have all gone national with 24-hour news coverage. I hate to use the TV as a babysitter but I may need to pop a DVD in until I can …"

"I'll take her for a while. She can play at helping me."

"Helping you what?" I asked as I put another eight quarts of hamburger in the pressure canner.

"The water?" he reminded me.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize Leah, without you … I have no idea where Nydia and I would be right now." We did a little more than hug for a moment before being forced to come back to earth.

I stretched, trying to wake myself up enough to do mental math. "All right. We calculated one gallon of water per day per person for drinking and cooking only and we said we wanted to have one month in bottled water saved up. That is 90 gallons. We didn't quite make it but it should be no problem to finish getting there since we still have power right now."

Mateo asked, "How much do we have at the moment?"

"We have the ten five-gallon Zephyrhills jugs you ordered last month before you cancelled the contract. They're along the wall in the garage. I've got another ten gallon-sized jugs on the gorilla shelves out there as well. That's sixty gallons. We also have four flats and a piece of sixteen ounce water bottles but I'm not going to count them in our total, we'll keep them back in case … in case we have to leave for some reason which reminds me that we never finished those backpacks for the Jag or my Chevy and …"

"One thing at a time mi Corazon."

I took a steadying breath and continued, "For wash water I can use the pool and the rain barrels. I wish we had had time to have Southern Solar come out and hook everything up to the well."

"The parts were delivered," Mateo reminded me looking at me consideringly.

"Uh … I don't know very much about electric beyond the basics Mateo and this is something above and beyond. I can change and add outlets, switches, fans, lights, and splice wires … simple stuff like that … but solar? I don't know Mateo. I'd be scared of causing a surge or blowing the batteries. Did they deliver the schematics with the supplies?"

"Yes, I believe so. Hmm … first let's fill more containers – I would rather be safe than sorry – and then while Nydia naps I will lay everything out on the lanai in the order of the pictures."

"Mateo are you sure about this? I've never worked with solar beyond the plug-n-play chargers like the ones on the electric fence."

"You saved me a maintenance call last year on the charger for the pool pump."

"That was just a loose wire Mateo, anyone could see that. I …"

"We will figure it out together. Don't get cold feet on me now Leah. It can be no worse than taking apart the air conditioner to fix the …float switch? … and clean the coils."

"That's different," I tried to explain.

"I do not see how."

Trying to remain calm I responded, "Because they were already put together the way they were supposed to go. All I did was make some small repairs following simple directions. This would be starting from scratch!"

"I still say, working together, we can figure it out." Mateo's confidence in me is both a blessing and a curse. I'm forever worried that I'm going to run up against something that he is sure that I can fix that I make a complete mess of. "Now, what can I fill with water before we lose power."

Knowing he was right and I was wasting time I said, "I have two garbage bags full of clean two-liter soda bottles I've been saving and we have that extra pickle barrel we didn't need for the water catchment system and … oh no!"

"What?!" I had startled him.

"No power … no freezer … no frig … no computer … I … I've got to get moving! I've got to finish …"

"Easy Leah. Look at me. Now I will say to you something that my mother used to drive me insane with. 'There is as much time as there is.' We'll do what we can and it will simply have to be enough."

I wanted to scream at him that it was easy for him to say but I didn't because he did understand. In his industry everything and everyone was always "on." Multi-tasking wasn't merely a line in his job description; it was a mandatory survival skill. So were patience and perseverance and the recognition that sometimes there simply wasn't enough time in the day to get everything accomplished and sometimes you missed an opportunity through no real fault of your own. Mateo was very good at compartmentalizing things and that was a skill I was going to need to develop.

So I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and said, "Spray the pickle barrel on the inside with straight bleach to sanitize it and kill some of the smell. While that is soaking take the two-liter bottles and pour a capful of bleach in each bottle, swish it around, and then fill with water. Make sure the cap you use for each bottle gets soaked in some bleach water as well. After the bottles, the barrel can finish being cleaned and filled. While you're doing that I'll put water bobs in Nydia's tub and the guest bathroom tub and get them filled. We'll need to use your bathroom for Nydia's bath time but I can still use the shower stall in the pool bath. That should give us another … let's see, fifty plus one hundred times two, plus another … four liters is just a smidge over a gallon and I think there are almost two dozen bottles out there …hmmm … OK that should give us about two hundred and sixty more gallons of drinking water after everything has been filled."

Mateo nodded at the plan in satisfaction. "Very good. I'll check the salt level in the pool and shock it if necessary just to be on the safe side. I think we are due some rain tonight as well. I'll use the spigot and transfer the water already in the barrels to the garden cistern."

After our brief brainstorming session we both went to work. When the water was taken care of I asked Mateo to finish pulling all of the citrus fruit and I juiced and canned it all since it was now too soft to make good segments. The loquats were also beginning to ripen so I made a small batch of loquat preserves as well.

Lunch, when I finally found time to stop long enough to prepare it, was pimento cheese made from a block of Velveeta cheese on homemade bread along with a salad of homegrown cherry tomatoes in vinegar and oil and seasoned with salt and pepper. Dinner was the last steaks in the freezer and nearly the last anything in the freezer. As I had removed items from the freezer I had filled the space with bottles of water. When the water in the bottles froze it meant that the freezer didn't have to run so often or work so hard to maintain its temperature. I had forgotten to include those frozen bottles in our water total so they were actually "gravy" and decided not to worry about it and consider it a cushion for our reserves.

Along with the steaks we ate baby carrots and loose leaf lettuce out of my window box garden. By necessity rather than plan, dinner was eaten on paper plates on the lanai. A so-called rolling brown out that started about 3:45 pm just as I was taking off my latest round of canning turned into an actual black out which forced Mateo to grill the steaks outside. As careful as we tried to be, as I was pulling some of the fruit that Mateo had missed, I heard some of the neighbors wondering enviously who in the neighborhood had been grilling out. I've been much more careful ever since then with food odors. We've got quite a bit of distance between our property and all of the adjacent homes, but smells still carry a long way, especially if you are hungry.

As afternoon turned to evening we could hear people in the neighborhood calling out to each other to see if anyone had power yet … and whether anyone had a generator. We did not interact with anyone primarily because some of our neighbors had rather different views of property rights that we did, particularly the neighbor immediately to our west, the one that worked for the county. Gerald had made a huge stink when we began to renovate the barn, going so far as to call code enforcement, because he was concerned that we weren't using environmentally friendly paint and that we might be dumping stuff in the lowlands behind the house rather than disposing of it as he deemed appropriate. Turns out that code enforcement actually cited him when they went through his yard to get to ours and saw that he had built a shed inside the conservation belt and had shut down the utility company's right of way to access power lines that ran behind his property. We got the blame for that snafu for some reason and our neighbor relations with him and his family haven't been particularly good since then.

Mateo and I were both exhausted that night. Events around town had quieted enough that Mateo told me to take Nydia to bed early and that he would be making an early night of it as well. There was nothing to stay up for anyway with the power still out. We had the radio with rechargeable batteries and the solar recharger, and then we had the wind-up radios some of which had their own solar back up but most of the radio stations were without power so no one was broadcasting anyway. I was grateful for his insistence; I really was exhausted to the point of tears and I needed sleep desperately at that point. However, when I got up the next morning it was to find Mateo had slept in front of the doors to our rooms.

"Mateo!" I whispered after nearly tripping on him as I tried to exit the room.

He groaned, "Not morning already?"

Still whispering to avoid waking Nydia, "Yes, morning. And the power is back on … the toilet tanks filled about 4:30 this morning, waking me up for a second. I'll go check the frig and freezer and get breakfast started while you tell me why you were sleeping on the floor instead of in your bed where you belonged."

I helped him stand and we went to the kitchen. "No power, no security system. And the phone lines were down for a while as well so no calling for help should we have needed any. I wasn't too worried about it because of the security shutters but then I picked up some talk on the hand held radios and I heard a report that another riot had started in College Hill … and that the authorities couldn't contain it or at least couldn't last night. A fire started in West Tampa as well and there wasn't any water pressure for the emergency responders and all they could do was watch it burn until they could bring in a pumper tank. It was simply … better … for me to watch over you and Nydia in case something …"

"But on the floor?! Look at you, you're even more exhausted than you were last night … and moving kind of funny too. Is that a scuff mark on your cheek?"

He'd tripped over the coffee table in the dark – I'm surprised I hadn't heard him – banging his face on the back of his recliner on his way down to the floor. As I dabbed first aid cream on the injury, Mateo nearly fell asleep in my arms. I knew he simply couldn't take too many more nights like the ones he'd been having. And that's how I … and Nydia … began sleeping in Mateo's room. We turned one of the large walk in closets into a "camp out" room for her and I became a wife in fact and not just title. I found that I too felt more secure with us all together at night, or at least closer at hand than at opposite ends of the house.

The power continued to go up and down that day. They tried to keep the power on at the hospitals as much as possible but we heard, again through the civilian broadcasts on the hand held radios, that the hospitals were using their backup generators more often than not. The areas of town that made the most noise got lots of attention as always and the areas of town that remained law abiding – or at least appeared so on the surface since they caused no open problems – went without even though the needs in those areas were just as great.

A week into martial law the authorities had no choice but to let people return to work to head off more riots and infrastructure failure, but it was a changed world for all of us. Many people found that when they tried to return to work their jobs weren't waiting for them, or that they were laid off after a few days of clean up. The week that the country was on hold was the straw that broke the camel's back for many small businesses; and many large businesses as well. The greater majority of the service industry told their employees to stay at home on unpaid leave if they didn't let them go completely so that they could get them off of their payrolls, especially the mandatory health care expenditure accounts. The laid off people ran to sign up for Medicaid coverage and other state and federally funded health care to avoid IRS fines only to find out that there was a huge application processing backlog and that applications didn't stave off the net being thrown out by government enforcers to levy fines and delinquency charges. Unemployment checks were still considered income for tax purposes and that amount was used on the sliding scale to determine how much they were going to be charged … a great deal more than most expected since you couldn't just opt for a catastrophic-only plan.

The Federal Reserve still had no real plan for exiting the mess created by the Stimulus Packages passed by Congress and signed into law in or any of the quantitative easing strategies that came afterwards. They had finally managed to divest themselves of the banks and other industries that had been nationalized, and even turned a profit on some of the entities (at least on paper), but the decision by and large was one that cost the taxpayers of this country billions of dollars. In an attempt to stem the rising risk of inflation the decision was made to abruptly turn off the printing presses again – a process that had been going on and off for a several years to try and control the value of the dollar - to give the economy time to absorb the extra dollars raising the specter of deflation instead when that plan worked no better than the one before it. To pay the unfunded mandates as well as the ever increasing debt service on the deficit the federal government went into overdrive collecting all of the "fines" and back taxes they could. No one was exempt. Even Mateo and I got caught.

One day I walked into Mateo's office to bring him some cold, sweet tea when he looked at me with this horribly ashamed expression, "Leah, I'm sorry, I …"

"What's wrong Mateo?" I asked concerned.

A pale faced anger replaced his discomposure. "I've done everything I could think of Leah. I've moved some money offshore but not enough and we can't bring it back in without risking huge fines, fees, and taxes. We'd wind up owing more money than is actually in the accounts right now. And for some reason they have me qualified as self-employed rather than unemployed and they are requiring me to pay taxes up front instead of at the end of the year as they've always allowed the self-employed to do in the past. They can't prove I have any income, I closed all of the investment accounts and disbursed the funds, and yet they are asking me to pay taxes as if I was still making the same income I made at the firm. If I don't they'll begin fining me and the fines and interest accrue daily … daily! And now the county is asking for quarterly payments … up front … on the property taxes. Do we not own anything anymore in this country?! Or do we merely manage it for the government's benefit?!"

"Easy Mateo, it's bad. I agree, it is definitely bad and unfair and everything else. So … so what do we do?"

"I …," and he raked his hands through his hair. "The only option I have at this time is to … Leah, the money in your account. I can close it and …"

"Well, then do it. The sooner we get them off our back the better."

"Leah, you don't understand, that's … the money from the sale of your parents' home …"

"We'll get it back somehow. Eventually. Probably. And right now that account is inaccessible to me except in limited circumstances anyway according to the statement we received. This is one of those limited circumstances. Cash it out. Do what you have to do. Maybe when all of the visible money is gone they'll have less to take aim at."

"It should only be so easy." Mateo took a deep, calming breath and then looked at me, "As God as my witness Leah, I'll get the money back somehow. I'll …"

"Don't. Don't do this to yourself. I trust you Mateo. I know how hard you've worked to try and save what you can. You wouldn't bring this up if you hadn't already exhausted all other options. You've gotten us this far. At least we don't have to worry about going to the grocery store so much."

You see, taxes and fines weren't the only problems. When people did return to work, assuming they had work to return to, the price of fuel had skyrocketed. With little to no threat from the US, the Middle East had erupted in violence and extremist rhetoric. Threats of depegging from the dollar never materialized for most of OPEC but that doesn't mean that words weren't capable of causing us pain. The current Administration's – as well as all of the fiascos of the last several administrations – blindingly poor performance with regard to international relations had practically garroted any standing we once had. With the loss of the US's balancing power, Russia quickly found itself overwhelmed and unable to cope with being the only former super power on the block and was also ignored by everyone no matter how much posturing they did. The Muslim Brotherhood, technically secular but in reality driven solely by religious objectives, became the strong man by proxy through various terrorist organizations spreading in the Middle East and throughout Europe. However, instead of the peace they claimed to offer they were turning even more violent and suppressive than any of the dictatorships they replaced. The countries that neighbored Russia, China, and the Middle East region got caught betwixt and between and became "no man's land" where a great many travesties of justice took place.

Russia also had China to worry about. But China was having its own set of internal problems. They were imploding economically and their own wells of social and ethnic troubles were increasing at an equal rate. Since they had been the go-to source for a wide range of investment funds to keep countries running, China's dramatic economic destabilization created a great deal of fall out around the world, especially when the government started calling for payments on the debts they were owed.

With the increase in the cost of fuel – not necessarily from the cost per barrel but from all of the added taxes and processing costs – came an increase in the price of everything else. This was especially noticeable to us at the grocery store and produce markets. At first there were shortages everywhere from the week of martial law and once the shelves where re-stocked – sort of restocked anyway – prices were outrageous. To address this the government started to muck up the free market forces even more by instituting rationing and price controls which only made things worse – for some, much worse – except for those making a living on the black market and even there the risks were almost more than the returns were worth.

The specter of the fictional character John Galt – an anti-collectivism symbol – as portrayed in the novel "Atlas Shrugged" was bandied about quite widely and was even temporarily banned in many libraries. Boot-legged copies of the movies based on the book were hot items for those with the money to afford them. Work and productivity came to a standstill as business owners and workers united in protest against the idea of being required to financially support the "useless eaters" and "entitlement junkies" of this country. In reaction, the government couldn't stop its previous mandates quick enough and couldn't enroll the newly poor into their social/financial programs quickly enough. Everything was unraveling much faster than even the most depressing talk shows had anticipated. It wasn't an overnight collapse but it felt like we were dying by inches every day. The media was finally at least partially awakening from their masochistic love affair with liberal progressivism but not soon enough. Some of the earliest large corporations to lay off large numbers of people were in the mainstream media and entertainment industries though it was not widely reported. First many people in those industries are contractors whose employment is treated differently; and, two since those industries controlled the flow of information, an entire segment of the unemployed population was shut out of the public eye.

The federal government, in the interest of Homeland Security, tried to shut down some broadcasting companies as well as some private companies that broadcasted on television, radio, and on the internet. If not completely shut them down, at least shut them up. The court had denied the FCC the prize it sought a few years ago of control of the internet – explaining they had not been able to establish a connection between their case and any existing law at the time. Since then the FCC, with the help of certain people in government, had changed that situation dramatically. Now the laws on the books looked similar to what had only existed in places like China in the past. The FCC now has the power to force carriers of all electronic media to have ratios of types of information and to desist in carrying information deemed inappropriate for the "common good."

This had caused mass outrage in many sectors as who determined "appropriateness" could weight the rules heavily in their favor. This went from a "good intentions" law to censorship approved and supported by the law. What was written for one reason became used for another, similar to what happened to the RICO laws.

These days there is only one conservative broadcasting giant still viable and on the air, not because of their business model, but because the people demanded it. When the FCC had made a move to try and take over the network thousands upon thousands of viewers and listeners had surrounded every affiliate across the country. To prevent a bloodbath, the President and his men … and women … tried to make it appear that someone, in their zeal, had overstepped their authority. Someone was figuratively thrown under the bus – a standard and over used tactic - and the Administration reverted to their former tactics of belittling the network and refuting that it was a news agency and was only using their entertainment value to enflame the masses. What a bunch of smelly fertilizer. All the attempted coup did was validate the fears that people had. The network and all of its affiliates are now basically armed camps with the type of heavy security that only truly free men can offer and understand. They have also turned into small cities in their own right as some have had to move their families into the administrative offices to protect them from the other tactics now being used to intimidate employees of these stations … SEC investigation of the corporation's stock value, audits by the IRS, social services investigating reports of child or elder abuse, dirty little tricks to make life miserable.

This was also true of the large social media outlets and search engines, not to mention a few of the big tech giants. It didn't matter what their politics were, if they refused to be manipulated or taken over, the government attempted to coerce them in other ways. There was a vicious backlash against anyone or anything that even half way smelled like a hacker and people were arrested almost daily for "treason" against the government. Many simply disappeared … from entertainment personalities with strong opinions to the neighbor kid down the street playing in a pond he was a very little fish in. Rumors were that some of the missing were escaping to private islands – Mateo snorted at that one and said "Fantasy Island more like" – while others became mythological caricatures in urban legends.

Our days during this time were stressful. Mateo and I weren't just waiting for the other shoe to drop, we were waiting for the rain of shoes on our roof top. It became a daily occurrence for me to see Gerald outside peaking over or through the fence with his stupid notepad, scribbling away. When I finally figured out how to hook up the solar so that we could switch the well off of electric when we needed to, Gerald sent the inspection department Nazis over. All they did was give us a sticker of compliance with the new conservation mandates and congratulated us on being the first in the neighborhood. They also gave us a receipt to turn in to get a rebate. I thought Gerald was going to have a stroke from the look on his face as it went from gloating to furious when he found out the results of his call. Mateo told me to ignore him, that Gerald was acting the way he did to rattle us and that in reality he was just a cog in a wheel and not the important bureaucrat he envisioned himself to be, but that only helped my state of mind so much.

In reaction to having no control over certain areas of my life I became a control freak in others. I just about worried our garden to death. I spent hours every day checking for bugs, watering each plant carefully – using water I dipped from the deepest parts of the swamp when the rains didn't come as often as they needed to since the solar only supplied the lines to the house and not the ag well – and fertilizing as sparingly as I could get away with. When I wasn't doing that I was helping Mateo collect wood for our wood pile – in the guise of cleaning up our yard to meet the new "beautification" codes that were just a guise to keep people as busy as possible so they wouldn't have time to foment unrest; sort of like the old CCC only without the pay check. We also reinforced our security starting with our own fence sections.

Thus far we had been having better luck than we should have hiding our assets and new lifestyle. The fence and gate helped as did the brambleberries and climbing roses, confederate jasmine, and other things that I had planted along the fence where we couldn't install plank-on-plank fencing. So did the fact that we had never been the type of people to share our private business far and wide. We didn't have to suddenly stop talking about certain things because we had never talked about them in public in the first place. And people were really focused on their own miseries – well most, Gerald is still a pain in my backside with his stupid surveillance act. A lot of people's situational awareness ended at their own front door. And I kept busy; very, very busy. Every day brought new projects that I could focus some of my nervous energy on.

How Mateo was coming up with some of the materials I don't know. We used up most of our materials for the barn renovation when I built the hidden storage space in the house. I'm not sure I want to know where some of the stuff comes from. At one point I was convinced it had something to do with the old playhouse built on stilts and hidden in the lowlands behind our property. I have my suspicions, namely that it has something to do with Mateo's odd friend Greg and a railroad, but the less said about it the better.

I suppose the one good thing that came out of that time was that we learned who in the neighborhood could only complain about the lemons life was handing them and who could actually make lemonade. Our neighbor to the east was several years older than Mateo and had grown children and two grandchildren about Nydia's age. He had owned his own maintenance company and was hit very hard economically. Taxes were eating him alive and he had to make a hard choice.

"Matt … Leah … I'm sorry to tell you but we're moving."

"Moving?!" I asked alarmed at the prospect of some of the most self-reliant people we knew packing up and leaving the area.

"Yeah. The county has already taken my little fishing shack over off of Anclote for back taxes. The place is just sitting their rotting but they even have a court order that I can't fish off the old pier over there that has always been public use even though it was privately owned by my grandparents. I can't afford another pre-tax payment on this place. We're moving to our hunting lodge up in Georgia and the kids are going with us. We'll be living like a bunch of dang hillbillies in side by side trailers but I own the land free and clear and I'll be able to put food on the table for a while, at least until they try and take my fishing and hunting licenses away. You watch, guns'll be the next thing on their agenda just like they try every year or so … surprised they ain't done more than they have already."

"We'll be sorry to see you go," Mateo said.

Mrs. Nelson, a quiet woman who rarely spoke at the best of times, said, "We honestly hate to leave, we have so much invested in the house … then again we don't, it isn't really ours after that last refinance we did and since they shut our business down for so-called environmental reasons, and well, the government can have it and good luck to them when we're through with it."

That made me blink. Mr. Nelson continued, "The 'burbs are getting too hard for us. I played fair too long, didn't stock up the way I should have. Never thought things would go the way they have. There's been no one big event that is making us skidaddle to safer digs the way we probably should have months ago. Things are getting lean around here and all our supplies are up at the lodge. My uncle – lives on the land too – keeps an eye out but he's getting on up there in years and needs some help keeping the poachers at bay; lots of vagrants from the cities trying to squat out in the woods too. But listen, what we want to talk to you about is … well, you've still got a little one and I know you got the raw end of the stick too. There is no way, even with us and the kids packing up, that we can take everything. Can't afford the gas to do it either nor the surcharges for any more extra axles on the road. My son is using his rig to get his and his sister's houses packed up and we'll put in what we can but there still won't be much room to move four households – we're picking up my mother on the way out of town. But no way do I want the government to get what we leave behind. I guess you've heard what's happening on the news."

Mr. Nelson was referring to the redistribution of "abandoned or excess resources" that had started to happen. More like a payoff to keep some members of the general public from revolting; or maybe bribing them is a more accurate description. It started with businesses that had shut their doors but hadn't cleaned out their stock yet. The government went in and took whatever was leftover to cover fines, back taxes, or to – and this was a huge load of bunk – to prevent environmental impacts. The "abandoned" items were redistributed to the "needy." Food and clothing were easy to understand – not that I agreed with the tactics used but it still made sense in a world that had descended into Marxism – but often the city, county, and state (and their employees) were the beneficiaries as the items were sold on the open market and the resulting cash disappeared into municipal coffers.

Tampa was far from the only municipality doing this. Even the federal government was using such tactics and there was the occasional scuffle between the feds and the local authorities when there was a disagreement over who had the "right" to a resource. It never seemed to occur to anyone except the victims that none of the government bodies had the legal right to do what they were doing at all. No writ of possession had been issued. No judgment had been granted by a court. No sheriff's sale had been scheduled and advertised. A team from the government body making the claim simply walked in and took things, often not even leaving a receipt behind of what was taken. And people found they couldn't even claim the losses on their taxes without such a receipt.

Mateo nodded to Mr. Nelson in understanding. Mr. Nelson then said, "We have things almost packed up. You're the first in the neighborhood we've told and probably the only one except for old man Houchens on the other side of us. Know for a fact he has some family moving him out in a couple of days too. Poor old guy, they've disallowed some of his medications that keep him going and it's only a matter of time now. Medicare will pay for Hospice but won't pay for a cheaper drug that would actually keep him alive with a decent quality of life." Mr. Nelson sighed deeply and said, "I just don't know what this country is coming to. Who would have ever thought … but it's here and we have to make the best of it. Mateo, you helped me get out of that 401K mess a couple of years back and I'd like to share a last drink with you. We are heading out at first light."

While Nydia chased a locust around the yard – and I prayed it would leave my garden alone long enough for me to finish my conversation with the lady in front of me – Mrs. Nelson said that she wanted to leave me her succulents and her pots of tomatoes since they didn't have any room for them in the truck. "I'm actually relieved that we didn't plant a winter garden this year, it's that much that I'm not being forced to leave behind." And then she broke down crying. By the time her husband and Mateo came back outside she'd gotten herself under control but both Mr. Nelson and Mateo looked grim and Mr. Nelson was also sporting red-rimmed eyes like his wife.

As Mateo picked Nydia up and we headed back inside to escape the mosquitoes that had come to dine I finally caught the locust with Nydia's butterfly net and tossed it to the concrete where it made an oddly satisfying splatt.

"Nasty Nonny. Nasty. Ewwwww."

"I know Baby Doll but I didn't want that bug eating our garden."

After a moment Nydia asked, "Nonny, how come da lady was twying? Was it da bug? Did it scare hers? It was big and yucky."

"Something like that Baby Doll, it was something big and yucky."

I was grateful that I had decided that morning to try out the solar cooker I had made as the power was out … again. It was basically just an old pizza box that I had altered with directions I had found online but beggars can't be choosers. It cooked well enough that I made biscuit pizzas. Mateo's was loaded to the max but Nydia's and mine were plain cheese that I had made from powdered milk.

After playing outside all day and then another hour or so in the pool, Nydia was more than ready to go to bed for the night after Mateo read her a chapter from Trumpet of the Swan replete with sound effects. I was cleaning up and putting together a thermos breakfast of oatmeal that would cook overnight and be the next day's breakfast when he walked in with the wind up lamp.

"Did she finally give it up?"

"She fell asleep two pages in. It took me a while to realize I was reading to myself."

After a few more moments of quiet companionship Mateo said, "As soon as the clouds cover the moon I'm going back over to the Nelson's place."

"Why?" I asked, concerned that we were getting involved in something that could lead to trouble.

"Nelson is determined. He's going to leave just enough for the government thugs that are bound to show up sooner or later … probably sooner if Gerald sticks his nose into things … and the rest he's insisting that we take."

"What? Wait, I … Mateo …"

"Leah, it makes sense. He can't take it all. He doesn't want the government on his trail if he can help it. If they take the property he'll be out from under any new taxes and he's already paid off the old and has proof of it; did it yesterday as a matter of fact. He'll leave some contents to make it look like he took everything he could and just took off, which is true. But even with the way they have everything packed down there is a lot that they don't have room for."

"Mrs. Nelson told me about her plants. I can hide them in with what we already have because she uses the same generic black plastic pots as we do."

"There's more gardening equipment and chemicals and I'll store them in the barn; I plan on storing it all in the barn until we can go through it. Anything they have a duplicate of at the property is being left behind, most of their furniture too but that will stay in the house – they were smart enough to move most of their family heirlooms up to the lodge when they lost their place on Anclote and had started thinking of retiring early. But his business equipment needs a new home and we have room in the barn. I'll hold onto it as long as I can in case they return but the way Nelson talks he's ready to shake the dust off and move on and never look back."

Within two days of the Nelsons leaving people from the county showed up and kicked in their front door … unnecessary since it had been left unlocked. I didn't even see them make an attempt to serve a legal notice before they ransacked the place. They just backed a dumpster onto the property and loaded it down with the remaining contents and then hauled it away after slapping No Trespassing stickers all over every window and door and sealing the building with hazmat tape.

The Nelsons and the Houchens weren't the only ones that simply disappeared one day. Roughly fifteen percent of the homes on our street became vacant within four months. The subdivisions surrounding our small enclave of homes on acreage were even worse with some streets looking like there were more empty homes than ones where people lived. The florescent orange stickers signifying that the government had taken over the property looked like a new holiday decorating fad.

On our street most of the remaining neighbors tried to at least keep the yards of the vacant homes mowed … there was a booming business for homemade push mowers and Mateo bought one off of Craig's List. We also used the swing blades. Pools were emptied as people dipped the water out of them during the times that the power was off. And the occasional gator was shot as it was sunbathing with the only evidence left behind being the entrails left after the meat and skin had been hauled away, and those soon disappeared in the gullets of the local scavengers.

We both now had the bodies we had only dreamed of with hard abs, bronze skin, and arm muscles that no pickle jar could ever stand against but it sure wasn't as satisfying as I had always imagined it would be. There were days when I dreamed of pale skin and softer curves, thinking that women that still had those must be rich indeed … or that they had latched onto some government employed Sugar Daddy. Even unemployed our days were full of nothing but work in one form or another; and sometimes it was just as much work not to turn bitter over what we had to do to survive.

The heat of summer saw the end of my winter garden and left me with only black eyed peas and okra growing. It also brought the return of rioting, especially when the power was off and the air conditioning failed. The government no longer made any pretense of civil liberties. For a while there had been noise of bringing in UN Peacekeepers to help when many National Guardsmen and military personnel refused orders to fire on unarmed citizens. That plan had fallen through however as the world at large began to descend into chaos.

Contrary to what many had thought, the US really did serve a purpose as the world's biggest Boy Scout. As we became unable to give as much away in charitable contributions, or the Administration picked and chose where to offer the little assistance available with no apparent logic especially when it came to our allies, a great many people began to suffer. As the US instituted taxes and tariffs on all imports, other countries returned the favor and did it to our exports. Instead of selling our grains as an export, it sat rotting in warehouses despite real hunger hitting our own citizenry because of price controls, rationing, and general bureaucratic inefficiencies at all levels. Going to the grocery store was like a trip to Russia in the 60s and 70s – long lines, few items, and ration books.

Many grocery stores simply closed, unable to cope financially. Other places that had formerly used groceries to help their gross income closed as well … mini marts became a thing of the past, many either boarded over or even fire bombed to unrepairable shells in some parts of town. I used to love taking Nydia and going to the grocery store, flea market, or produce stand. Not now. Now it was like entering hell on a one-day pass. And I was constantly worried I was going to get stuck some place if violence broke out. I hated the lines. I hated the depression. I hated the anger that simmered just below the surface. But I hated the feeling of helplessness most of all and the aura of hopelessness that seemed to follow some people around like a fog. Even though it wasn't hard labor I always came back from shopping exhausted and with a head ache that took the rest of the day to get rid of.

I never went any further than I had to but unfortunately it was always alone. Neither Mateo nor I felt safe taking Nydia out in public any longer, people were so unpredictable. Neither one of us felt safe leaving the house completely empty in case someone from the government showed up and mistook our house for another "abandoned" one. The government tried to claim that such circulating stories were nothing but fairy tales; however we knew for a fact that it did happen … had happened twice in our own area.

I didn't even attend church any longer but when the power was on we listened to the podcasts of the sermons. Seems if this crisis has done nothing else it has driven people back to church, or at least back to a type of faith that wasn't there before. I heard through the grapevine that many churches offered potluck dinners on Sundays to church members, either as a breakfast or after the morning services. Wednesday was another popular night for potluck or "Stone Soup" dinners as they were being called. Everyone brought what they could and it was turned into a large soup or stew. The church provided crackers, cornbread, or rolls and a selection of beverages. Some Catholic churches had returned to the traditional Friday fish fry by contracting with local fishermen direct at the pier.

A barter system also sprang up within the local churches. People would list items that they had for trade or that they wanted to trade for … or services they could offer or needed. Of course everyone had to be careful because the government was trying to force people to have business licenses to do this. Places like Craig's List, Etsy, and Ebay were all heavily monitored by the government so that no taxes or fees went unpaid. There was no way the government was going to give up the VAT tax or other sales tax and fees that a barter economy subverted.

We were lucky. We had started preparing just in time. Nothing lasts forever though and both Mateo and I craved different items at different times. The thing we craved most though was fresh eggs. Powdered eggs were great for baking and they even made decent omelets if you put some effort into it, but for scrambled eggs they were the pits; or at least I had never been able to make decent scrambled eggs with the powdered stuff. And frying was not an option either.

One day Mateo made one of his mysterious forays into the city to meet his friend Greg and returned with six sad looking chickens in a dog crate.

"Mateo? What on earth? Do I even want to know where these came from?"

"To make a long story short … no. But do not worry, they are … what do you call them … feral chickens. They are the descendants of the ones left behind when many of the migrants returned to Mexico rather than pay taxes here. You know that Greg "finds" things and … well no, you really don't want to know." As I picked small feathers out of his hair and out of unusual places on his clothing he continued, "He suggested that we build a coop for these in the barn and let them do something called free range. With no rooster we won't have to worry about chicks, but if we can get fresh eggs you won't worry so much."

Greg had a habit of "finding things" all right. Why he felt the need to gift Mateo with so much stuff I've never been sure of. Greg is … eccentric doesn't really cover it but it is the closest polite description I can come up with at the moment. He doesn't make the greatest first impression and while he's rubbed off on me a little bit – he really does think a lot of Mateo – even after long acquaintance he takes a lot of tolerance from me when he is in one of his moods.

Actually I'm grateful to Greg and shouldn't bad mouth him after what happened. We – no I – would have been in some serious trouble without his odd skills.

It had been months since we had heard anything from any of the Lazaro family. The SEC investigator never materialized at our home. We had relaxed and made assumptions we shouldn't have. About six months from the week of martial law that changed everyone's economic landscape, I was subpoenaed to appear to give a deposition for Mr. Lazaro's lawyers and some federal investigators. It was totally out of the blue and I really resented the lack of warning and being dragged into the whole mess. I didn't blame Mateo, it wasn't his fault. No, the fault for what happened lies solely on Lazaro and I now detest the man more than I ever did before.

I never considered myself stupid and after being around Mateo, even before our marriage, I'd learned a few things. Two of the most important things I'd learned was that you never volunteer anything and that documentation is king. Lazaro and his minions underestimated me. They were also lame and grossly misinformed; they didn't realize the difference between the funds that Mateo had set up for me – now hidden overseas after making it appear the money had been lost to a bad investment – and the account that had always been in my name from what was realized from my parents' estate, it too now gone to pay taxes. I came prepared with proof of where those funds originated and proof that all taxes had been paid; thereby refuting their ridiculous assertion that Mateo was hiding undeclared assets under my name.

"What's the difference?" I asked. "His name, my name? Florida is a community property state and we filed our federal income tax forms married-filing jointly. Or does Mr. Lazaro assume everyone is as corrupt as he is and hides assets in LLCs and in his children's names … not to mention the rumors of mistresses and foreign currency dealings. Or maybe he just wants to blame my husband for publicly pointing out that his poor professional behavior cost people their life savings?"

I looked away from the death rays that Lazaro was shooting my way with his cold gray eyes and I noted a ferrety looking little man in the back taking notes. I also noted how Lazaro's attorneys (yes, plural) were studiously avoiding paying that man any attention.

After hours of their nonsensical questioning – I didn't understand half of what they were talking about or trying to lead me to say – I was finally released from the deposition. I stood up to leave and watched the federal agents look at Lazaro's team of lawyers with less than happy expressions and the ferrety man looking like he was chewing on something tasty.

Turned out the ferrety man's name was Louis "No Stone Unturned" Banks, Esq. … the newly hired divorce attorney of Mrs. Lazaro. "Yes, my client caught her estranged husband moving assets and raiding the account set up in her name as part of their prenuptial agreement. Here's my card. If you can remember specific details, I'm sure Mrs. Lazaro would prove to be very appreciative," he said with a barely discernible wink before catching sight of someone and scurrying in their direction.

As much as I would love to have had information to share to repay Lazaro for his actions, I didn't. And even if I had I'm not sure that I would have ultimately given into the temptation. What goes around comes around and some ancient proverb said "when embarking on a journey of revenge, first dig two graves." Better to avoid the temptation – and potential repercussions – and keep my nose firmly stuck in my own business, something too many people seem to lack the skill to do.

As topsy turvy as our lives had become since our marriage, things became even more so that day. As I left the offices where I was deposed I noticed that the gas tank in my Chevy was around three-quarters full. That wasn't bad but I decided to top it off anyway. It was a rare day when fuel didn't go up a penny or two … not so much because of the price of crude per barrel but because of all of the new taxes being added per barrel at the state and federal level.

I was at a red light waiting for the arrow on my side to turn green so I could make a left turn and then turn right into the gas station closest to our street. A woman in oncoming traffic was in a hurry, talking on her cell phone, and she blew through the light … the same time two bicyclists were crossing in the crosswalk (something they weren't supposed to do since there was a bike lane and they too weren't following traffic rules). The woman saw the cyclists at the last moment, slammed on her brakes, swerved and … I still don't remember being hit. I don't even remember getting scared that I was about to be hit. Heck, I don't even remember the woman blowing through the light or anything. Everything I know is what someone else has told me happened.

With the drop in taxes and increase in fuel prices, one of the fall outs has been too few police officers, too few first responders, available at any given time to respond to emergency calls. They say I was only completely unconscious a couple of minutes but I wasn't real with it for another ten or fifteen. The only thing that saved my life was that my poor Chevy was an old tank of a car. It still had a real metal bumper if that tells you how old it was and Bea's brothers always treated me right so if something did have to be replaced they would go to the junk yard and pull a good piece instead of a fiberglass aftermarket thing. I had also been wearing my seat belt … no way did I want one of those $300 tickets they handed out like candy … and I also don't like to sit right up on top of the steering wheel so when the woman's car clipped my driver's side front fender and pushed the front of my car to the right hard enough to cause the back end to spin to the left, I didn't slam into the steering column area. The air bag didn't deploy because I didn't have one.

I spidered the driver's door window with my head … still trying to figure out how that happened considering it was the back of my head that I did it with. The seat belt did its job, but it did some damage at the same time. My ribs were bruised, a couple cracked. I had skin abrasions all the way through my clothes and let's just say the bruising has resembled a surreal piece of modern art.

I think the worse physical damage, other than the ribs, was the hamstring. I must have been twisted pretty violently and most of the muscles down the left side of my body were pulled, pinched, bruised, and lots of other nasty things.

But the scariest thing wasn't the accident because I don't remember it; it wasn't the injuries either, at least not then. What was scary was that it took forty-five minutes for the first official to show up even though witnesses had called 911 right away. Heck, the news van got there before they did when people started calling the news stations saying how long it was taking for the cops and emergency responders to show up. This wasn't some hokey back road. I was on a main highway not too far from an Interstate exit, still along a main drag. It wasn't during rush hour so there wasn't any physical impediment to them arriving. People were calling, apparently telling the 911 operator that the other lady and I were bleeding to death and that both the cyclists were already dead and it still didn't get a unit to arrive any faster.

Most of the law officers in Tampa were assigned to cover areas where government buildings and other types of major infrastructure instillations were located. With those officers off the streets there just weren't that many to send, plus the federal government had taken over the 911 system nationwide, supposedly in a bid to streamline some healthcare issues arising when people thought they were free to call an ambulance for less than emergency purposes … it was "free" after all. Except it never had been, people simply didn't notice the cost because it was paid by insurance, Medicare, or Medicaid … and when the person didn't pay, that cost was past along to the government who no longer wanted to support such payments.

During all of the craziness a witness turned out to be a neighbor, had recognized my car, and called Mateo. I was still penned in my car when he arrived, right after the first Sheriff got there. Bea and a couple of her brothers had come back to town for a short duration to clear out the last of their belongings and Mateo reached her on the first ring. She showed up about five minutes after Mateo – they were in the area and had meant to stop by as a surprise - with her two oldest half brothers from her dad's first marriage. One of them had spent 25 years with the VFD and was able to stabilize me and to calm Mateo down enough so that Bea could take Nydia back to the house.

The other lady didn't make it. She hadn't been wearing her seat belt and had been ejected. She was alive for a long while, lying on the blacktop where passersby did their best to keep her immobile and calm, but it wasn't blood loss or internal bleeding that killed her but shock. Neither cyclist actually died though they did suffer life threatening injuries and there had been enough blood that everyone had thought they must be dead.

My own shock eventually wore off leaving my mind free to feel the pain I was in. The first responders were finally dispatched by 911 … the coroner was dispatched before those people who were trained to save lives. When the EMTs triaged the other three people they turned to me and I received better care in their hands than I did once I was admitted to the emergency room.

My car is history; between the impact and the "jaws of life," or whatever you want to call that hardware that opens up vehicles like a tuna can, not even Bea's brothers could put it back together. Mateo said it is probably the only good thing to come from the wreck; I still don't understand why he hated my Chevy so much. I miss it, not that I've been able to drive but still, it was something left from my old life and it was reliable.

I eventually made it to the emergency room where I was left in the hallway on a gurney for a long time; I don't really know how long but even in my condition I could grasp that a significant amount of time had passed. Nurses came and went, as much to comfort and calm Mateo as to check on me … but there were so many people needing their attention that they could only do so much until I had been seen by a doctor. Finally a harried looking man in a white coat and scrubs came over … only because Mateo bodily picked him up and brought him over nearly by the scruff of his neck. The physician took one look at my chart and then looked at me and you could tell the young man was shocked. Under his breath Mateo swears he heard him mutter, "It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They promised; it wasn't supposed to be like this."

Blood work was drawn before they would administer any pain medication … and a good thing too. A rather antiseptic looking woman came in to the curtained off area where I had been put and told us bluntly that I was pregnant, that the accident was likely going to cause a miscarriage and that to prevent me further discomfort they were scheduling me for D-and-C immediately. It had taken hours of lying on a gurney in the hallway before anyone would even look at me but somehow they could schedule a pre-emptive abortion "immediately" for my comfort so I would have to go through the trauma of a miscarriage. Mateo and I wanted a sonogram to make sure that what they were saying was true but there weren't any sonogram machines or techs available and really "it was inevitable so why not allow them to help me before the medical bills began to mount."

I had held up pretty well until that point. I felt the walls closing in and a scream building in my throat. All I could do was beg Mateo, "Get her away from me. Make her go away! Make her leave me alone!"

A nurse came in and started to try and calm me down. Eventually they turned the lights down and left Mateo and I alone. The crazy feeling finally let go but I looked at him and said, "There is no way that woman is coming near me again. Do you understand what I'm saying Mateo?"

"So long as you're sure that is what you want. We'll do this however you want mi Corazon. Just be calm. I won't let her near you again," he whispered, wiping my face with the damp rag the nurse had left.

I was in the hospital for a little over twenty-four hours and never saw the inside of a room. The closest I came was the cubicle they wheeled me into so that I could be examined to see if I needed a cast on my leg or anything more invasive. The only thing they had me sign before I left the hospital – Mateo took care of all of the insurance paperwork – was a form acknowledging that I had turned down the D-and-C and that any medical complications due to this was solely my responsibility.

Bea had stayed in the house with Nydia and her brothers had camped out in the driveway with their camper and trailer to keep an eye on things and to keep the curious neighbors at bay … especially nosy Gerald. They stayed for another two days but then had to leave which was OK because by then I had finally started staying awake more than I was sleeping.

It was a rough three weeks; I was in pain but wouldn't take the medication they had sent home with me "just in case." I had spotted a little right after coming home but the promised miscarriage never occurred. I finally begged Mateo to go to the drugstore and get a home pregnancy test. In his usual style he brought home three because he didn't know which brand I wanted. I actually laughed – the first time in a while albeit brokenly – when he told me of standing in front of the rack of tests trying to figure out which one to buy. Apparently when he would try and stop a woman and ask her opinion they thought he was some kind of weirdo and would run the other direction. The clerk from cosmetics finally took pity on him and helped him settle on his choices.

The first pregnancy test registered positive. I was ecstatic but Mateo remained reserved, more because he was too afraid to trust that things were going to be all right. I took another test two weeks later when my monthly cycle still hadn't shown up and again it registered positive.

During this whole time I tried to have a somewhat normal life … hah, what a laugh. I was afraid and kept waiting to start spotting again which would signify a miscarriage was imminent. Another month went by and the referral for my OB/gyn appointment was finally approved. The appointment was enlightening in more ways than one. Mateo insisted on going with me and I'm glad because frankly I was shocked and I'm not sure I could have explained things to him if he hadn't heard it from the horse's mouth so to speak.

After arriving and filling out yards and yards of forms I was given all of the standard tests and then some. I was embarrassed because I'd never been subject to quite that thorough an exam before, not even while in the hospital for the wreck itself. I could feel Mateo's stress as he sat at my head and held my hand. It's not that he disliked the doctor, it was just a horribly awkward situation.

I dressed and we waited in yet another waiting area with us doing our best to entertain Nydia. When we were finally called back it was to a little closet of a room with two chairs, a desk, and a harried Dr. Milton sitting on the other side of the cluttered surface. "Mrs. Jakob, welcome to the end of your first trimester." I immediately burst into tears … tears of relief. It took me a moment to pull myself together and assure the doctor I was happy.

The shocking part of the appointment wasn't the news that I was still pregnant; the shocking part was why I had been forced to suffer in anxiety until I could see a doctor. The national healthcare database had me essentially blackballed. Actually blackballed really isn't a good description; I'm not sure what a good, short description of the situation would be.

I had been listed as "high risk" and most OB/gyn's no longer see high-risk patients because of the cost of malpractice insurance, lack of tort reform, shortage of specialists driven out of practice by the new laws, and new federal standards mandating price controls of treatments. The database had somehow tied me to my mother's health history, then the wreck added another tally mark against me, and lastly I was listed as "emotionally unstable." I didn't get the last one at all but the doctor explained that is was probably a result of refusing to allow the hospital to perform the recommended procedure … the D-and-C.

"Well of course I wasn't going to allow them to do a D-and-C without a sonogram and they refused to do one!" I exclaimed, uncharacteristically emotional, remembering how they had wanted me to simply trust them without any actual proof of whether their diagnosis was a correct one.

The doctor steepled his fingers and took a deep breath and said I could request going back into the pool to be referred to a different doctor but it was going to be yet another delay to me receiving prenatal care. "Mrs. Jakob, while I do not wish to alarm you, it would perhaps be beneficial if you were to allow us to keep you on our patient roster. The circumstances of your first trimester have been less than ideal. I would be remiss if I did not recommend closer monitoring than you might get had the accident not occurred."

Basically the reality is that there could still be "complications." How likely those complications could be isn't quantifiable right now but so far so good. That doesn't mean … but I'm not going there, I need to have faith. Things are already so bleak. Mateo and I decided to remain with Dr. Milton's office and before we left we were loaded down with literature to read. Mateo said "study" which is not the least bit amusing to me but would probably go over well in a sitcom because that's exactly what he has done; like he is going to be tested on how much he retains of what he reads. We also left with a special ration card supposedly similar to the old WIC program that only pregnant women can obtain from their healthcare provider.

Originally it was supposed to encourage women to get prenatal care but it has morphed into something else. When we tried to turn down the card since we were doing fine and some other woman might actually need it we were quietly pulled aside by the nurse.

"Take it, use it. We're required by law to sign you up today either way. And," she looked around to make sure no one was listening. In a whisper that barely moved her lips she said, "They check. If you don't use it a social worker will show up at your house and want to do a home study. My sister is still fighting the findings of the so-called investigation her family was put through."

When the three of us got into the Jag – I still miss my roomy Chevy – I wanted to discuss what we had learned but Mateo insisted on celebrating first. He made a call and then we drove to a small restaurant not too far from his old office.

We walked in the door and an older gentleman came out. He spoke excellent English but at the same time his accent made it patently clear that Cuba had been his place of birth. "Mateo! It has been too long. I have a table all prepared. Come, come."

We had a lovely lunch of Arroz con Pollo, black beans (onions on the side for me thanks), fresh Cuban bread, and Tres Leche cake for dessert. The restaurant was small and even with the economy being the way it is there was still a wait to get a table, an even longer one if you wanted a booth. What I noticed was that while there was a real appreciation for the food, I didn't see any real enjoyment going on. What I mean is that the people all looked stressed out. Mateo knew a few of the other patrons and there were nods of acquaintance but none of the "well met good fellow" type greetings that I used to see between his peers. People were not loud and boisterous and were not having a good time which was a complete contrast to the way things were before. The only "loud" was Nydia squealing at all the attention the owners of the place were paying to her and a belligerent couple at another table; fighting about what else but money.

The owner insisted on me sitting and waiting while Mateo brought the car around to the door – the brace on my knee was still necessary but brought some embarrassing attention that made me more uncomfortable than the brace did – and the owner's wife was a little too loud with her congratulations on the impending addition to our family adding to my embarrassment. Nice lady, just she had a hearing problem and instead of talking to me she was basically announcing it to the entire restaurant and several buildings on either side. When Mateo pulled up a couple of the people that had recognized him came over and congratulated him and they wanted to get together and talk when he had time.

We were both quiet as he drove home. And instead of doing the work like we had planned we put Nydia down for a delayed nap and then lay on our own bed for most of the remainder of the day, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

Confirmation of the pregnancy being viable hasn't changed our lives so much as reinforced how important everything we are doing is. Mateo did freak out a little bit when he started making up a budget … diapers, formula, clothes … and when he took a trip to the stores to get the average cost of the items he really freaked out. An upset stomach had me waking up in the middle of the night a few days later to find him gone from our bed. He wasn't in the house and it wasn't until I looked outside that I found him; but he wasn't alone.

He was talking to Greg – how that man shows up and disappears like he does is a mystery.

"I didn't mean to wake you Leah. You should go back inside." Mateo was making it sound like a request but I knew in reality it wasn't. Sometimes you keep the peace even when your dignity gets affronted.

When Mateo came in I was back in bed and turned away from him. "I'm sorry Leah but …"

"Don't worry about it. Next time simply tell me ahead of time; that way when I wake up and can't find you any place in the house I won't worry. I'll just assume you are on one of your manly 'no women allowed' covert operations."

"Ouch. I said I was sorry mi Corazon. Greg is a little more … eccentric … these days and while I trust him I … I … I wish to protect you and Nydia as much as possible from what is going on."

I sat up and turned to him, "Considering I don't have a clue what is going on you are doing your job a little too well. How can I help if I don't know?"

"I don't wish you to help. I don't want you involved. Wait … please Leah … understand me, this has gotten a lot more complicated than I had anticipated when I first agreed to get involved. What is going on is …"

"Illegal?"

"Not … not precisely."

"Mateo Jakob, I taught teenagers. More prevarication I can do without."

He chuckled, "Yes, I know la profesora." Then he continued more soberly. "Seriously Leah, I really don't want you involved. As I said I trust Greg but at the same time a reasonable man takes reasonable precautions. We are moving … items … that might otherwise have difficulty moving. Nothing is illegal but it gets things done with less … fuss and bother … when the … items … are moved shall we say, less publicly."

"Do I want to know what these items are?"

"Let us say that you don't need to know what the items are."

"Mateo …"

"Leah, mi Corazon, let it go. For me. The greater complications that are occurring are less of a problem for me when I know that you aren't a part of what is going on."

"Mateo, I really don't like the sound of this. Why can't you simply tell Greg to take a hike if things are getting more complicated than you were given to believe in the beginning?"

"Because …" and his hesitation gave him away.

"Oh my gosh, you are enjoying this whole 007 thing aren't you?!"

"Enjoying isn't how I would describe it. But if you are asking if I get a certain amount of satisfaction from it? Then yes," he replied rather smugly.

"And you promise this isn't illegal? That we won't wake up with the government knocking down our door and hauling you away?"

"I can no longer fathom what the infernal government is going to do. But what Greg and I are a part of is not illegal, that I can promise."

I had to be satisfied with his answer but at the same time it didn't do a thing to settle my stomach. But even when drama abounds real life has to continue on. I found one of the reasons that Greg had been to our house that night was that Mateo wanted him to "find" items for our baby so we could prepare ahead of time. I finally got Mateo to sit down so that we could talk about what a baby would cost.

"Mateo, forget the formula. I can breastfeed. And, when I was little my mom used to make my formula and I know the recipe is still in my baby book in my hope chest. The nurse said that I could get liquid baby vitamins with that ration card. That is one of the ingredients in the homemade formula. If we can get cloth diapers then that will cost a lot less than disposable ones as well. And babies don't really need all the clothes people buy for them. Nydia used to only get a wear or three out of her little outfits before she would outgrow them. She was happier in onesies and socks than in a ruffled dress with baby shoes." We reworked the budget again and Mateo relaxed a little; not much but a little. There remained the issue of the cost of the hospital and birth but we've decided to put that off for a couple of months. Besides, there have been enough other things to cause us concern.

Life is both micro and macro. You live in your small world on a daily basis. You have to. The small details make the difference in how well you live. But you also live in a macro world where things beyond your control – the big picture – affect your micro world.

We live on our two acres and pretty much keep to ourselves but that isn't to say that we aren't aware of what is going on in the neighborhood. We stand there and listen while other people talk. Domestic violence is up; so is juvenile crime. Mateo caught some kids out in the swampland behind our house. I don't know what they were doing back there but I think he, and possibly Greg the way Mateo was grinning about it afterwards, must have put some kind of scare into them because we've had no other problems like that since.

Our neighborhood is actually somewhat better off than many; some neighborhoods are more like the OK Corral than the suburbs. While we haven't had any gunshots on our road I've seen with my own eyes that people are carrying their guns openly. I think it is more in reaction to some yahoo in DC once again saying there should be a complete federal ban on private gun ownership than actually needing the gun for protection, at least right now. If things get too much worse people might start wearing their guns for something more than to show they can.

There are parts of Tampa that you have to be careful in for more than one reason. College Hill, sane people avoid it at night. Some of the streets off of Nebraska Avenue have gotten even rougher. Parts of Town n' Country, formerly a rather nice area, now erupt in gang violence at the least provocation. Too many young people without jobs to take up their time. Some parts of Sulfur Springs, formerly a resort area in the early decades of the 1900s, are dangerous no matter what time of day it is. Ruskin and Palmetto also have their problems. Clair Mel can be a war zone as bad as Sulfur Springs when turf wars start with the sister community of Progress Village. And of course the violence has a bad habit of spilling over.

I've lived in Tampa my whole life and so has Mateo and though Mateo remembers the last College Hill race riots in the late 80s when he was a young boy, neither one of us ever remembers things being like this. Oh sure, you'd have your occasional bit of shocking violence but it was usually due to a small number of idiots … small number, as in less than ten. But these days it seems everyone's temper is riding the surface. The rationing and price control causing shortages of basic food items has not helped at all. Even if you are lucky enough to still have the job you had two years ago, even a year ago, the money doesn't go near as far as it did. The great majority of employed people now report that though working, they are underemployed. Most of the underemployment issues are blamed on rising taxes, rising cost of the so-called free health care (long since mandated for every individual in the country), and the fines and fees imposed by the local government. If the government would just get out of the way most folks could deal with the rising cost of living as far as food and fuel goes.

And Tampa is no exception though Florida has suffered more than most states because of the loss of tourism income and lowered property tax income in the state. The only income source that remains constant is the income from the Florida Lottery and from the legalized gambling within the state. People would rather bet small fortunes of winning a large fortune than actually living with today's reality.

I hear from Bea and her family once a week or at least three times a month depending on how often someone comes out of the swamp to make contact with what passes for civilization down there. I carry my cell phone with me all the time now, hoping to hear her voice; but usually it is just a long text letting me know how she is doing. Things are rough in their neck of the woods. People are scraping by the best they can; lots of poaching and more than a few reckless hunting accidents happen every week … and a few hunters have disappeared into the woods and swamp lands never to be heard from again.

Bea is being courted by a neighbor; they were introduced by her grandparents. He's older than Mateo and she calls him her "diamond in the rough" and that for once her brothers are thrilled with her choice. The man must really be tough as old shoe leather then because Bea's brothers have been known to be pretty rough on her beaus. She was thrilled when she found out I was having a baby and promises to try and be here for the birth but I think that is wishful thinking for both of us. It makes me sad to think about it; we grew up best friends and always dreamed of living next door and … well, it just makes me sad how our lives have gone so far off course from what we imagined as little girls when we had no cares but baby dolls and building blocks.

Outside of Florida things are pretty bad as well. California and Michigan have kind of imploded and are now run almost directly by the federal government through puppet governorships. Los Angeles is a mess but there are some true diehards that swear not even the evacuation of the Rodeo Drive crowd could make them leave. A lot of those expensive homes in Bel Air and Holmby Hills have been ransacked. Hollywood's porcelain crowns have gotten cracked and stained and most of the big studios have been forced to pick up stakes and move. Movies … the few new ones that can get financing … are being shot on location which means any place else besides California these days. But reality is that most recent movies are CGI … no live actors needed … and are created on the computer and not in front of a camera. The economy of California is so bad the immigrants that were granted immunity and US Citizenship are trying to give it up to return to the countries they originally fled … but their former countries don't seem to want them back. And Mexico is pitching a fit because so many immigrants from the US are passing across their borders heading south, causing a strain on local resources … many of them repatriated Hispanics who got caught up in the amnesty craze used to increase certain voting populations.

New York City is another place that has reverted to a form of lawlessness; all the work done by Rudy Giuliani's office in the late 80s and into the 90s has come unraveled with both organized (and disorganized) crime making huge gains back into the old neighborhoods. It has been happening for a while but with the troubles of the last couple of years, small steps have become huge leaps. For example, Time Square is again a place where no one sane – except the occasional naïve tourist – goes after the sun sinks. Even during the day the street performers and homeless that call The Square home can become extremely aggressive to the point of being dangerous. Taxes have become so burdensome that most people that work there refuse to live there and actually commute from other states or co-workers will share the rent of a minimalist, closet-sized apartment for those nights that it is impossible for them to commute back home in time to get up the next day and do it all over again. It may sound like lunacy but if you have a job these days you do whatever it takes to keep it.

And doing "whatever it takes" can be pretty extreme. There are cases of murder and murder-for-hire in relation to job openings and closings. Just last week on the radio there was a story of a man who had killed his boss when he heard from the grapevine that he was going to get the ax so that they could bring in someone cheaper to do the same job. Workplace violence is up a hundred-fold and more. Security now costs most businesses so much they can't afford to hire workers that actually generate income for the company.

A lot of pension funds are simply disintegrating and Congress, now more evenly balanced as far as party affiliation goes, is not listening to Presidential directives to fund the empty accounts. In fact, even though the President vetoed the Bill on its first pass, Congress took the unprecedented step of making strikes for any other reason than health and safety an illegal act. If it can be shown that the striking Union members' wages are more than 3% above the same job held by a non-union member and the strike was union encouraged, the union will lose its federal pension insurance and employers are free to break any unionized contracts signed by striking members. That caused a lot of consternation on both the pro and anti-union sides of the debate. It has also caused a lot of public sign waving and noise … but with the promise of Congress to rush the Bill through a second time and override the Presidential Veto, the number of actual strikes as decreased. Too many people still remember that President Reagan fired all of the striking Air Traffic Controllers in 1981 after decertifying PATCO and are wondering if Congress will do the same thing.

The trucking industry is in complete disarray. The cost of fuel and slim profit margins imposed by the Federal government has pushed most independent truckers off the road and caused most professional trucking companies to drastically downsize. There are still a few major players in the industry but they are primarily in-house like Walmart and Dollar General. Target's shipping capacity collapsed when their company had to restructure after they competed and lost with Walmart and some larger regional grocery chains.

Online purchasing has remained steady though the spikes in spending at the holidays has pretty much disappeared. Amazon and Barnes and Noble both remain healthy companies relative to their competitors but their stocks have taken a hit like all the others. You would think this would have saved the USPS but it didn't. Too much overhead and too many retiring employees eating at the pension plan gutted them financially. People now get mail two or three times a week on days dictated by zip code. It has been a huge adjustment for people use to one of the fastest mail delivery systems in the world. UPS and FedEx have picked up a lot of the slack with package shipping. Online banking has tried to take over the Bill-Pay issues though many companies charge a fee for accepting online payments. And frankly, many people simply don't have funds in their bank accounts to pay their bills with any regularity.

A new industry of Bill-Pay kiosks has sprung up for those people that don't have bank accounts. You walk in with cash or a cashier's check and a clerk will help you route your bill payments appropriately and then print you out a proof of transfer tag to attach to your statement for your records with a routing number, etc. You are either charged by the transfer or you can purchase a yearly membership at various levels based on how many transactions per month you expect to have.

Internationally things are not much better and in some cases much worse. The EU is a mess as member nations exit or threaten to. Passport and currency issues abound all over Europe as a result. Some countries are little more than one huge street brawl day after day and refugees are seeking anyway to get away. Starvation is rampant in Eastern Europe after yet another year of some kind of disease wiping out the Ukrainian wheat crop. Some places in Africa have devolved so far into violence and genocide that no communication can come into or out of the region. Disease and starvation are adding to the destruction of an entire generation in places like Somalia, Afghanistan, Iraq, Central African Republic, Pakistan, Yemen, Congo DR, Palestine, Haiti, and the Sudan. They aren't the only dangerous countries but they are the worst this week. Iran isn't too far behind due to the opposition party continuing to fight against the totalitarian theocracy of the Grand Ayatollah currently controlling the puppet President in that country. Add in Italy's problems, Spain and Portugal, and many other EU members and you have a horrible picture to contemplate. Even Germany is struggling to control what is happening within and on its border as their refugee problem increases daily.

Another war is breaking out in the Middle East. It has been starting by inches for years but a recent series of bomb blasts in Israel itself makes war a near certainty now. It is very hard to get any information on what is going on in that part of the world because all countries involved have requested that all foreign journalist leave – aka they've been thrown out – further complicated by our own government's censoring.

Do I go on about the bread riots in France? Or the attacks on the Vatican by some coalition between a militant atheist group and a group of disenfranchised Catholics who believe the current Pope – whether wittingly or unwittingly – abetted corruption within the ranks of the clergy? China's attack on Taiwan? Or it's attempted financial takeover of a great many of Australia's natural resources? Russia's arming of Venezuela and the subsequent Venezuelan – Columbian Conflict that destabilized much of Central and South America? International tussles over the Space Station? The India – Pakistan Religious War? The Gold Mine Battles in places like Papua New Guinea and Indonesia? Or any of the many other crazy things going on in the world?

It has gotten where I almost hate to listen to the news any longer. I'm either suspicious of the censoring and can't believe what I'm hearing or I get depressed knowing that with the censoring the things going on in the world are probably much worse than they are letting on. And everything revolves around money in some way … the assassination of some execs from Goldman-Sachs after they were indicted on fraud; they were accused of directly manipulating precious metal markets using corporate assets for personal gain … several large churches around the country are losing their tax-free status and have federal investigators (via the IRS) scrutinizing not only their financials but their children's activities and other community activities … law suits against several environmental groups for terrorist activities against Monsanto who is slowly gaining a monopoly in the area of agricultural biotechnology industry … the unintended and drastic drop in OPEC's output and the resulting international economic impact as the price of crude oil goes ever higher … the defaulting of international loans left and right by countries that were doing it in retribution to countries trying to take their national resources (like the Australian-China conflict that is occurring) … and on and on and on.

But to top it off the president just signed an Executive Order mandating participation in local Volunteer Corp activities if you wish to receive your ration card. Mandatory volunteering … an oxymoron for the morons of this country. Mateo and I both received draft letters – well, that's what they amount to anyway – and we are assigned to different locations on the same day. How do we take care of Nydia? Mateo has outright forbidden me … yes, he actually used the word forbidden … to go. I really don't have a problem with volunteering, I did it through the church all of the time, but being told I have to defeats the whole purpose of volunteering. And, you would think they would want to utilize people's talents to maximize their impact. But no. I could be volunteering in a tutoring program for students at risk of dropping out. Forget that, they want me … a woman who has been classified as having a high-risk pregnancy … to help collect and dump old household chemicals. I tried to change dates or jobs or something but they said no, no exceptions to the assignments under any circumstances. They have Mateo picking up trash in a really bad area of town … a man of his talents, who could help the elderly organize their estates or straighten out some taxable income situation, and instead they have assigned him to pick up cigarette butts and used condoms. Someone somewhere is out of their mind.

We've got three weeks to figure things out but that "no exceptions" stipulation doesn't appear to be up for debate. There is a huge uproar in Congress over the President's end run around the Legislative Branch of the government … I forget how many times this has been done to date. The President's response, on national TV no less, was that it was Congress' fault; if they had acted as he told them to act in a timely fashion he would not have been forced to use an Executive Order to get things done. The man has some nerve. It is rumored – but you'll only hear the rumor on some internet forums and from one or two independent networks – that even some of his closest allies are beginning to have serious doubts about his methods. That's a little too little, a lot too late. This whole country is in such a pickle I have no idea how we are going to dig ourselves out.

I know that Mateo and Greg … and several other people I've never met and only know they exist because of their shadows passing through our yard at night … have spoken of the possible futures in store for us. Mateo speaks with me a little but only when he can no longer bear the burden in silence. I can grasp most of what he talks about; the financial future, the political future, the social ramifications. But what scares me, and though I try and hide it I know Mateo senses it and it is one of the reasons he keeps most of it to himself, is that there isn't anything in the future to stop this except a major war, a world war.

We already see the potential in international events that make it through the censors and history tells me loud and clear that economic woes precipitate most wars and violent conflicts. If you want to get right down to it one of the greatest reasons for divorce stem from money conflicts within a marriage. Why should it be any different with relationships between countries?

I can't stop whatever is coming but I can do what we've been doing … pray, plan, prepare. Before the next planting season we will add at least four more raised beds. I'll do what I can to prepare for the baby. Mateo has gotten handy enough that he wants to add metal shutters on the inside of our windows to match the steel storm shutters on the outside of the windows. The other night he handed me material to make black out curtains with. The space where my little Chevy used to sit in the garage now holds strong shelving for all of our prep items that aren't food related … those go up into the finished hidden storage. Mateo wants to turn the remaining space in the bonus room into a room reminiscent of the one in Anne Frank's Diary and he wants to furnish it … for us if need be. He's also making other plans but so far I'm not privy to them.

All I can do is all I can do. But most days it just doesn't seem enough. The only time I feel at peace is at night when we close the bedroom door, check to make sure Nydia is sleeping peacefully, and we lay together in each other's arms and let the world fade away before drifting to sleep. The only problem is sometimes I wake up … and he's not there.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Part Four: Next Step Over The Line**_

I'm terrified. And I'm furious. Furiously terrified and terrifyingly furious. For every step forward we try and make there are always those that throw a monkey wrench into the works. They've also been throwing the monkeys and lately it feels like they've been throwing the whole flaming zoo at me too.

Look how I'm living; like a ghost in the attic, like a mouse in the walls that only comes out when absolutely forced to by necessity, and even worse like a vampire afraid of the light. Of course the fact that I am alive and have a where to complain about is a heck of a lot more than a lot of people have so that's got to be something. And it's not that I don't appreciate it because I do. I'm not just a Drama Queen because I feel like it. I know what blessings I have, especially under the circumstances. I remind myself several times a day. But …

Isn't there always a "but"? Don't we always imagine we have something worth complaining about, something greater to complain about than the next person? Wishing the grass was greener on our side of the fence for a change? Wishing that things were back the way they used to be even as messed up as they could be? This time it's really true; true on a level it never was before even when I thought I had something worthy of complaining about. The injustices of the past are nothing compared to the terrors of the present.

How much harder this is to do alone. How hard it was to watch them take him away. It's certainly not his fault. So many men … and women too … have been drafted in this war. They came so early in the day that no one was really prepared, ran through the whole neighborhood. Only three that were taken were allowed to return home but it hasn't done them any good. Lack of draft eligibility has seen their ration points drop significantly.

Life is so fractured but that doesn't mean I need to record it that way. I need to go further back, what happened today won't make any sense otherwise.

The last three months have been challenging. What little innocence or idealism I could still lay claim to has been obliterated by events like coarse sandpaper against a black lacquered surface. And current circumstances continue to sand blast what hope I have left. Optimism fades on some days but when I remember his words it never goes out completely, at least it hasn't yet. Only my faith sustains me.

I know that should be enough but I'm weak and there are nights I wake up calling his name, mornings I open my eyes to feel the salty residue of tears on my cheeks shed in my sleep. I wonder where he is. I wonder if he is … is eating, is sleeping, is safe, … is still alive. I'm scared of what is going to happen to Nydia, to our baby, to me. If I could just get to the point that survival was a day to day compartmentalized thought that took up all of my mental energy I think things would be better but the future looms too close and too large for me to be able to ignore it. It sits there like vultures around a carcass, waiting for the big predators to leave.

Things deteriorated so quickly, so suddenly; all over the world. The Administration had appeared to gut our ability to defend ourselves, much like they had gutted our standing in the world, in the interest of globalization and the so-called redemption of US arrogance, their idea of "equal" and "fair." Idiots. Incompetents. Traitors to their own people and Constitution. Making promises they could never fulfill while gutting our future and the future of our children and our children's children and beyond. Making promises they never meant to keep just to give people a few more feet of rope to hang their hopes with. Thank God that there are still real people in charge that can use their brains rather than just a computer and that there are still real, thinking people under their command that are brave and honest and true and loyal.

Oh, if I'm honest, I can admit it's not just this Administration's fault; all the bad stuff that has been happening has been years, decades, generations in the making. But the inexperience with anything beyond narcissistic imaginings practiced with a thug mentality made so many problems so much worse.

Broken promises. Lack of transparency. Outright lies. Obsequiousness to the wrong people. Arrogance at the wrong times. Anger at the wrong issues. Belief in the wrong philosophies. Pile upon pile upon pile of wrongness.

Destabilization of the US Economy – an intentional action or not depending on who you talk to and how tight their aluminum chapeau – set in motion events on the world scene with far reaching consequences. Everywhere began to destabilize like a key stone had been removed from a vaulted ceiling.

The EU, always more loosely connected than they let on, changed from a peaceful confederation to a balkanized madhouse. Countries would threaten to pull out, act like they were pulling out, and then demand that they have some say in the EU's direction and how the IMF was distributing "bail out" funds and loans. Sometimes the EU only seemed to be made up of its weakest links and sometimes it more closely resembled ancient feudalized Europe with the stronger countries having direct control over the weaker ones. And yet, in the end, everyone continues to fight with one another like a bunch of unruly three-year-olds that have missed their naptimes.

The two Koreas have gone at it again; nukes have been used but not very efficiently. Lord, what a way to put it; "not very efficiently." I don't suppose that is any consolation for the tens of thousands that died instantly nor the ones that continue to die of radiation related sicknesses. The whole episode was so globally disturbing that it temporarily put the brakes on the madness the world has been experiencing. Temporarily. Unfortunately, there are a few too many madmen roaming free to put the brakes on for long.

Factions in Pakistan and India are in a stare down contest and neither appear ready to blink. Now that the first nukes have been tossed the temptation is to use them again. "See, only a couple of ten thousand people died. We have millions more to replace them." It makes me want to puke in fear if I think about it too hard. What kind of future is there for Nydia and my unborn baby if this keeps up?

Some Middle Eastern countries tried to take advantage of the world's instability to strike at Israel and while there was horrific loss of life, the perpetrators were hurt even worse, learning that size matters less than what you do with what you have. There are plenty enough espionage artists that, while it couldn't have been an easy thing, the nuclear and biological weapon labs and locations in some countries were sabotaged and the results were far worse than what is being publicly released, or so say the late night radio broadcasts from frequencies claimed by such stations as Radio Free America (never broadcasts from the same location twice), Yankee Tide (supposedly broadcasting from international waters),Saoirse An Phreasa (an Irish station), Libertad (broadcasts mostly in Spanish), Droits des Citoyens (operated by an Expat in both French and English), Einblick (German/English broadcast from the EU), Pensatore (another European station that sometimes broadcasts in English).

The fiasco in the Middle East has got everyone going nuts and fuel is even more tightly restricted and higher priced than it has ever been. It is actually now a crime to drive a passenger vehicle unless you are part of a licensed carpool; if not, it's public transportation for you … or you have to walk or ride a bicycle. The national news outlets have reported that unlicensed cars are being impounded and if the owners can't pay the fines they are being confiscated for parts, etc. Or, you can voluntarily turn an unlicensed car in for extra ration points. That sparked a lot of car jackings and garage break ins and now you have to show two proofs of identification and vehicle ownership; day late and a dollar short if you ask me and some segments of society are saying that is discrimination because it makes them look like criminals. In the words of some of my former students, "Well, duh."

Speaking of education, school districts have been redrawn and if you live less than five miles from the school you lose your bus seat. No more school choice, you go to the school assigned period regardless of what area of town it is in. From what little I hear of the new curriculum I wouldn't have my kid in school regardless of how easy it was for me to get them there. It is nothing more and nothing less than indoctrination and reminds me rather frighteningly of Hitler's Nazi Youth movement.

Heard on the local news last night that truant students are being drafted into public works programs and many are being sent off to "work camps" regardless of sex or age. Teen parents that are accused of being chronically truant are being forced to leave their children behind, either with a "state approved" family member or they lose custody to the federal foster care system that has been created. I dreamed the other night that they came to take Nydia away from me and when I woke up I thought I heard someone in the house. It was hours before I got back to sleep even with the solar-powered fan finally relieving the hidden bonus room of some of its stuffiness.

Russia forced the Ukraine to merge with them no matter what the majority of Ukrainians wanted. This has given the Russian Bear back a major industrial and agricultural component in their planned economy … or at least it should if this year's harvest is even just a little better than the nothing they had last year. But from reports that you can get if you listen to the right radio broadcast at the right time of night, reintegration with Mother Russia has been as difficult as the separation had been back when the Communist Bloc disintegrated.

I'm not the only one that has trouble sleeping at night these days. Sleep is elusive for many in Asia. If it isn't Russia breathing down their necks it is China. China is the bigger fear at the moment. As predicted, though the timing was off, China's economy imploded. They had been able to feed on themselves for only so long and after that … kablooey. Their economic back up plan was apparently not quite as fail safe as it had been designed to be. They might have cornered the world's market in a lot of natural industrial resources but having all the resources in the world for industry doesn't do you any good if there isn't anyone out there that can afford to buy them no matter how low you drop the prices.

Prices were actually what Mateo and I were talking about when we had our first visit form the local Federal Volunteer Board organizer. I won't even start on the misuse of the word "volunteer" which generally means participating in something willingly. What the FVB is in reality is the administrative arm of the new-and-improved civilian draft process that had been hidden in one of the most recent Bills to make its way through Congress. Turns out when too many people started squeaking about it being a draft rather than a call for volunteers the President simply signed it into law using his executive powers stating that it was necessary for the possible preparation for a potential war. He really used all of those qualifiers. These days whoever is writing his speeches tries to leave so many loopholes for him to climb through that you can't understand most of what is being said.

I was watching when one of his teleprompters literally melted down on his last televised speech. He tried to keep going but he started tripping over his lines and then started adlibbing and then one of his advisors stepped on stage and whispered in his ear and the President left the stage in a hurry surrounded by body guards. Later the incident was made to look like there had been a threat of some kind. One story that made the rounds was that the President continued to try and talk to "his people" even though he was in the middle of a failed assassination attempt but that finally, no one could stand to see him in such danger so they begged him to leave the stage and go to safety. Conspiracy theorists call it "The Teleprompter Incident" and the talk about it gets pretty wild.

But that day, one of my last peaceful mornings, Mateo was helping me to trim some tree branches heavy with leaves that were hanging down to the top of the fence. The morning was already muggy and we were covered in sweat but we were together and in harmony and that was enough. I had Nydia corralled in the shade on the porch playing tea party; it was one way I could ensure that she would drink plenty of water in this heat as she filled cups for her animals and helped to drink them too.

I had gone to the grocery the day before and was telling Mateo how some items never seemed to move off of the shelves at any price but that other items just seemed to continue to go up when they were available. Frozen foods were disappearing which didn't break my heart any but it was a definite change from the way things used to be.

"You should see it. You go in and it is like being back in the olden time markets. You take your ration book and your list up to a counter … I was in line an hour to get approval from the grocery store police before I was even allowed to get in the line to see a grocery clerk … then the clerk tells you whether they have what is on your list or not and how many ration points you need plus the cost of the items they do have that are on your list. You have to be quick because if you don't have alternative choices in mind right there they move you on through the queue and you are out of luck. People that can't do math in their head or aren't flexible on their choices have an awful time of it."

"And we put up with this why? We have plenty in the garden and … the other as well."

"We put up with this because we need to look like we are the same as everyone else. And so long as we can keep adding to our food supplies without having to break in to … the other … the better off we will be in the long run."

"Still Corazon, I hate to see how tired you are after a day of shopping. Your color was not good yesterday."

"That was just …"

I never did get around to telling him how close several of us had come to getting hit while standing in line when an old woman lost control of her car and jumped the curb. It wasn't really the near accident that bothered me so much as what happened afterwards when a white van pulled up and these men got out and took the old woman into custody. Where they took her I'm not for sure but my guesses aren't pleasant.

The reason I had stopped in mid-sentence is because of the sound of a large truck coming down the road. In and of itself it was nothing to be shocked by but given the fact that vehicles are few and far between – this was true even before they had made it illegal to drive unless you were part of a carpool – huge trucks painted an annoying baby blue really got your attention.

I will not print the rude Spanish expletive that Mateo muttered under his breath but I was very close to saying the English equivalent of it. They'd been playing commercials for the Federal Volunteer Board for weeks now, making them out to be a cross between super patriotic tough guys and warm, fuzzy kittens at the same time who weren't a threat to the public. The whole thing left a very bad taste in my mouth because it reminded me unfortunately of some of the "commercials" played on the radio and early movie reels of the Third Reich favored by certain political parties in Europe just prior to the onset of WW2.

They really pushed the "multi-cultural coalition" angle too, playing the commercial in several different languages. Some of those commercials were so over the top that they were almost cartoonish, like they weren't really targeting adults at all but children and adolescents. There were even a couple done in the latest anime style that actually looked cool until you read between the cartoon figures and understood what they were trying to message in.

Mateo agreed with me and we had both been dreading the day we would see the FVB in our own neighborhood. You can ignore a commercial, it's much more difficult to ignore someone at your gate that won't go away until they've glad handed you and made you aware of the importance of everyone doing their part. A couple of days later they were back, this time with a group of "volunteers" who were taking what amounted to a census and who expected to be allowed to come in and survey our home and property.

Mateo hacked the head honcho off quite a bit that day by refusing him admittance to our property. "Sorry, given how expensive healthcare is these days, it is my patriotic duty to keep possibly unsanitary and infectious people away from my pregnant wife and our child. There is a legal survey on file with the County's Property Appraiser's office and I'm sure that now that the federal government has taken over Google Earth Map that you can get an even more up-to-date aerial view that way."

Gerald ran out, acting like the school tattle tale and said, "You can come look through my backyard. They have a barn and a garden and a pool. I see them grilling out all the time."

Mateo was furious but was careful not to let it show. He laughed and said, "Honestly Gerald, you'd think all that stuff you bring home from the County would be enough for you. So what if we turn off the electricity when we don't need it? The whole state is under a mandatory conservation order for electricity. At least we have the sense to follow the rules, I've never seen you go without your air conditioner yet and bragging about those steaks your boss gave you for ratting out his political opponent's son doesn't exactly make it appear like you are suffering in the same way as the rest of us. Since you've already given them permission, and you claim you don't have to pay for healthcare since your son is a doctor over in St. Pete, how about they start by surveying your house so that the rest of us can see what they are doing."

I thought Gerald was going to have apoplexy when the FVB group leader jumped on the idea like a dog on a T-Bone. They never did get back around to surveying our house, guess they got a good enough look over Gerald's fence. Or it could have been the huge blackberry hedges, wet swamp, mosquitoes as big as airplanes and masses of wild roses that dissuaded them from making more of an effort.

A couple of days after that another gang of FVB came through and these guys were a different kettle of fish from the first two groups. I suspect the first two gangs were sent in to soften everyone up with the warm and fuzzies and to make them feel safer and more accepting. In all honesty all they did to Mateo and I was to make us feel even more wary. The third group of FVB were supposed to be civilians but they were dressed in dark green coveralls. Some of them even had side arms; they reminded me of some type of trained enforcement team. Most of them looked like they were former defensive linemen; those that weren't big looked even more like the kind of men you didn't fool with or push far.

They didn't say much. They went in three-men teams to each door, or in our case gate. They didn't hassle us about not letting them in. They simply took bolt cutters and cut the chain off, and then strong armed Mateo out onto the black top. When he would have fought one of the head FVB said sotto voice, "Man, don't make a scene. There is always someone that makes a scene and gets the #$% kicked out of him and then gets taken away anyway. According to your papers you got a wife, a kid, and another on the way. They going to need you back in one piece and you don't want you-know-who to come in and confiscate your place with you gone. You know what I mean man?"

A couple of the other men around him gave him a hard look but the whisperer just gave them blank face back. He'd given Mateo enough to think about that it forestalled his temper. I'm grateful. I pray for that man for risking who knows what for giving Mateo the warning. From a house down the road came screaming as several young men were thrown to the ground. A couple of women tried to run to them and were roughly pushed back. I could hear a sneering voice, "You boys gonna let your Momma and Grandmama tell you what to do? You a bunch of babies?" Rough laughter followed. From the other end of the street a man with a bloody face was being drug to the bus that had pulled up.

"Mark that house."

I could see Mateo getting wound up again and again the man stepped in front of him and said something. I don't know what it was but Mateo got a look in his eyes and I saw a look of resignation on his face. He asked if he could talk to me and calm me down. "Make it quick man. They don't like us to let the emotional stuff go on too long as it creates problems."

"Corazon, I'll come back when I can but I don't know when that will be. Stay safe and keep the little ones safe. Kiss Nydia for me and don't let her forget me. Take care of yourself and I will try and let you know where I am when I can. Look at me my love. I trust you and … don't lose faith, no matter what. Whether soon or … not … we will be together again someday."

Those were the last words that I heard from him. I was near hysteria, grateful beyond measure that Nydia had fallen asleep for a nap at an unusually early hour and wasn't a witness to what was going on. I worried that the noise coming from Gerald's house would wake her.

"No! Do you know who I am?! You can't do this! Do you know who my boss is?!"

"Yeah, some little #$% of a nobody down in the county building. He started making a lot of noise like he thought he was somebody until his sons and daughter got brought up. He signed your release papers pretty quick after that. Of course, his kids still have to serve anyway but he don't know that yet. Everybody serves. Ain't you been telling everyone else that?" That was followed by a sarcastic laugh as they shoved Gerald onto the bus. The FVB man then looked right at Gerald then tossed a thumb back at his house and said, "Mark that house."

Gerald's wife started screaming and crying, tears, snot, and heavy mascara running down her nearly purple face. "You said this wouldn't happen to us! You promised you son of a #$%&! You said all we had to do was play by their rules! You liar! You fool! How could you do this to me?! What am I supposed to do now?!" Gerald just sat on the bus shocked and totally defeated.

I spent the rest of the day in shock myself. I was five months pregnant with a toddler to take care of. The first thing I did after the bus drove out of sight was run to the gate and take the shorter length of chain left from the cutting and relocked our driveway. I knew in my head that it gave me a false sense of security but at the moment I took anything that I could get.

Then I ran inside and shut that door and locked the bolts and threw the two bars that Mateo and I had installed when home invasions had been reported to have tripled over the previous year's statistics. I don't know how long I stood there but it must have been a while because I came back to myself when I noticed Nydia pulling my leg saying, "Nonny, Nonny. I hungry. Can I has carrots for lunch? Can I has carrots and pudding for lunch? Nonny can I has carrots and pudding and crackers and …"

I bent down and hugged her to me. "Yes, you can have carrots for lunch. Would you like a bocadillo de queso to go with your carrots?"

"Umm, umm … cheeeeese. I likes cheese."

I was still running on autopilot but at least I had a focus. I spent the afternoon trying to explain to Nydia that Poppy had gone on a business trip and that he would be back as soon as he could but that I didn't know when that would be. At dinner time she threw a horrible temper tantrum, almost to the point of making herself sick. I suspect that she knew I was lying to her but she was too young to verbalize it like that. While I cleaned up the food she had thrown, remonstrating her more roughly than I probably should have, tears rolled down my face because I felt at a complete loss at what I was supposed to do next. Then Nydia started crying, and then she started howling. Small comfort but she didn't kick me when I finally corralled her and cuddled her, both of us broken hearted, both of us crying for Mateo.

She fell asleep, exhausted, in my arms. I was on my way to put her down in the bedroom when real fear gripped me. I was alone, truly alone, for the first time in my life. I'd gone from my parents' home to Mateo's home. I'd never really had to do it all by myself. I'd always had someone that I could count on, to share my pain with, that made me feel safe no matter the circumstances.

I lost it for a few moments. I lost my self-confidence, lost my faith, and nearly lost my mind. Then a still quiet voice seemed to whisper unintelligible words in my mind; words of comfort, words of assurance. It was like a gentle breeze or a sweet odor made me turn to look at the stairs. I hefted a sleeping Nydia onto my shoulder and I slowly walked up the stairs and faced the bookcase that hid the entrance to the bonus room.

After laying Nydia down on the guest bed I spent the next several hours in drone mode. First thing I did was pull back the blackout curtains that were across the dormer window. From the outside it looked like a false window but the reality was that it was the only exterior light source for the room. Then I started a list as I cleaned. When the sun began to fall I closed the blackout curtains and turned on the solar lamp and kept working. I don't know how I managed it but I drug most of Nydia's belongings up the stairs and put them into the bonus room after marking off a corner as her "new room." I also took the mattress off of the guest bed and made my own "new room." I made sure I had a week's worth of clothing and underthings upstairs. By that time I was exhausted. I was ready to just crawl in bed when there was a rattle of something landing on the roof and then falling off.

I nearly stopped breathing but when it happened for a second and third time I thought that maybe it was Mateo. I ran downstairs and looked out the window and saw … nothing. Then it happened again and it was coming from the back of the house. I ran back there, grabbing a butcher knife from the kitchen this time and looked out back and nearly screamed bloody murder.

Greg's face was right at the peephole. I cracked the door open and hissed, "You nearly scared me out of a year's growth! What are you doing?!"

"Saw what happened. I'd heard that they were heading this way but couldn't get here in time to get Matt bugged out. Might be better this way in the long run. Followed them to the processing facility. They've taken over the dorms at USF. Got contacts. One of 'em is looking after Mateo, getting him up to speed. Ain't nothing we can do to stop this now. I can't stay but, we'll have people looking after you when we can. Matt would want that. Brought that stuff he asked for. You need something, you leave a note under that rock out behind the barn. Somebody'll find it and we'll do what we can. I'll try and arrange for a woman to come and help out. Don't know when yet but hope to find someone before your ration book runs out."

"What does …"

"Look, this is how it'll work. You turn over your ration points to whoever I can find. She'll look a lot like you, fit your general description; being big with a baby is going to be a challenge but we'll work around it. She'll spend your points for you and then keep a share of whatever she buys, but it'll be a fair cut. It'll be fair or I'll know about it. So's that parts all taken care of up front. The rest of it, the baby part … I ain't sure what to do about yet. Let me talk to some people I know. Maybe we can get a midwife to come and take a look at you. Let me think on it some. Don't open the door for no one but me after dark and I won't send anyone during the day. And for God's Sake woman, that pig sticker ain't worth nothing. Get them guns out. You do know how to use them don't you?"

"Yes, my Dad …"

"Well, that's a relief. Just don't have no accidents with 'em or Matt will have my guts for garters. And if you have to use 'em, don't just play with it, shoot to kill and then drag the body to the swamp. We'll take care of that too. Now get inside and lock up. I ain't got all night to stand around talking."

And with that he just faded into the night leaving a canvas tote bag at my feet. I was real close to throwing something straight at Greg's head and I think he knew it because he moved a lot quicker than he usually did.

After locking up I trudged up the stairs, moved Nydia to our new living quarters, fell across the mattress and amazingly fell right to asleep. But not for long. Sometime after one in the morning, lasting all the way through the dawn, the gun fire started. I didn't know what it was about but I knew I was stupid for not immediately having followed Greg's call for me to use commonsense. I snuck downstairs and got all of the guns and ammo and brought them up to the bonus room; they were heavy and more than a few trips to move. I temporarily hid all but one of the guns under the mattress, making sure they weren't loaded. The ammo boxes I stored in the only vacant section left in the wall.

I knew that I'd have to secure them better against Nydia's insatiable curiosity but it was the best I could do at the moment. Most of the noise was coming from the eastern end of the street where the two small subdivisions were located. One of the subdivisions was very middle class, full of homes built in the sixties and seventies. The other subdivision was a very affluent one; full of homes larger than Mateo's built in the nineties on zero lot lines and conservation lots.

The gun fire had not abated any by three AM and I could see from an upstairs window that there were at least three fires as evidenced by three separate large glows off in that direction. The smell of smoke was also strong and crept into the house despite being shut up tight. What I didn't hear was sirens. No one was coming to the rescue. No law enforcement ever showed up either.

Nydia awoke at six AM as was her habit and I had no choice but to wake up mentally myself. I went into the garage to get the camp stove and some instant oatmeal and noticed an odd circle on the floor. Looking more closely I realized it was a circle of light, but the power was off like it frequently was. I looked up thinking that Mateo had hung an LED tap light or something but there was nothing. Then I saw the dust motes in the beam of light that was causing the light and with my eye followed it to a small, round hole in the garage door.

I stopped breathing for a moment. Looking at the hole in the garage door and then following that across I saw one of my #10 cans had, quite literally, bit the bullet. It was a can of powdered eggs and lucky for me I had intended to open a new one today to make a hearty quiche that Nydia and I could have for both lunch and dinner. I couldn't tend to my nerves at the moment because I had a toddler calling for her breakfast.

I set Nydia's play yard up in her "old room" since the windows had already been really secure even before Mateo and I got married with film on the windows so that they wouldn't shatter and then as time went on and got bad we'd added metal screens on the inside and outside of the window in addition to the storm shutters on the outside of the house. I put the pistol that I had been carrying around in the pocket of the smock I was wearing, attached the baby monitor to my waistband after replacing the battery with a newly charged one, and cautiously exited the house through the backyard.

I heard them immediately. And could see them when I inched over to the corner of the house. A large moving van with the FVB insignia was backed up to Gerald's house.

"At least let my mother get some clothes and photos and important papers."

"Look. I don't care who you are, who you think you are, who she is … nothing. I've got a work order here. The contents of this house is to be confiscated in lieu of a cash fine against the owner for his crimes against the federal government. It doesn't say the contents except for clothes and photos and important papers. It says the contents, the whole contents."

"But that's absurd."

"What is absurd is that the owner of this house committed whatever crime that he did. He disrupted the order of things. The fine stands as is. Now move or suffer the same consequences."

"I'll be talking to my lawyer about this!"

"Sir, please take my advice. Do your job. Don't make trouble. Keep your head down. And stay out of the way. If you choose not to take my advice you may find yourself facing imprisonment as an enemy combatant in the federal prison system until your case can be heard."

"This … this is … this is outrageous. Do we live in America or not?!"

"In case you have failed to notice sir, the rules have changed. We are at war."

"At war?! With who?! I haven't heard Congress make a declaration of war!"

"The President doesn't need Congress to declare war against obvious threats to our social and financial structure. It is simply the reality we now live in. You can blame those idiots in Congress for not controlling the dissidents with all of their anti-government rhetoric while they had the chance. Instead they acted like a lot of wimps and allowed people to play up their First and Second Amendment rights without understanding that the Constitution is a fluid document that changes with the times. It is about time that our President put his foot down and stopped all of that nonsense."

I don't know what horrified me more, what was happening to Gerald's family or that the man actually believed that tripe he was spouting. They were both equally nauseating.

I stayed in the bushes and then slowly backed up to the house, hoping I didn't trip and bump into something; actually it wasn't a something it was a someone. Old habits still help and despite being pregnant I popped the man on the nose with my fist and then turned around swinging only to find Greg on the ground holding a bloody nose and rolling away from me. I was worried until I saw the lunatic was trying not to laugh.

I whispered through clinched teeth, "Are … you … crazy?!"

He crawled over to the lanai and slipped inside. "Better oil them hinges. I heard you come out."

"I repeat, have you lost your mind?! I could have hurt you … and you nearly … oh … you …"

"Aw, don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry. Come on, Matt warned me that you might look like a little sweet thing but that you can come out swinging under the right conditions. He'll either kill me or think it's funny that you caught me off guard. No hard feelings? Right?"

I wiped my eyes and sniffed, "I hope it hurts."

"Yes ma'am," he responded while wiping his nose.

"Look … I've got some oatmeal …"

"Naw, can't stand the stuff. You got any grits? Had to stash my pack last night and haven't gotten back to it yet."

He wouldn't come in the house but sat in a corner of the lanai, hidden behind a couple of potted palms and a Chinese screen. I brought back a large bowl of buttered grits that I'd mixed some canned sausage into. I thought at first that he'd been asleep but as soon as my eyes fell on him he was wide awake.

He gave a guarded grin. "Cat napping, only way I sleep these days." Then as I handed him the bowl he said, "Aw, I didn't mean for you to go to this much trouble."

"Don't worry about it. I was going to open the sausage anyway for our lunch and dinner. What happened last night? I woke up at one and …"

"They're getting faster."

Confused I asked, "Who's getting faster."

"Scavengers. They follow the FVB around and after they've removed most of the men and single women out of a neighborhood, they come through like locusts and take what they want. Ain't enough cops to take care of them and the National Guard and Military are all busy trying to hold things together on the international front and areas surrounding military facilities like MacDill on the other side of town. Last night someone underestimated someone's granny and several of them scavengers wound up with holes through their middles. Gotta love that kind of action so a few of my people took some revenge on them scavengers for some past battles that didn't go our way. FVB came around right after first light and we faded and the Scavs got caught by the men in riot gear. Fire has spread but they've brought in the big equipment and they've knocked down the fires and they should be out by tomorrow."

"I have a bullet hole in the garage door."

"Yeah, about that. Matt said the house is all block all the way up. The storm shutters are steel and will keep all but armor piercing rounds out and the Scavs ain't got that kind of fire power. But that garage door. It ain't what I'd call secure. Matt had meant to tackle it but he ran out of time … "

"I guess it would be too much to ask if you'd heard anything from him."

"Actually …," he said as he pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket. "Don't expect any more of these. My contact risked more than he should have to get this out. I like Matt but no way am I putting the whole operation at risk."

My response was to snatch the letter from his hand and read:

"Corazon, I am safe. I know it is a waste of ink but I ask you not to worry. I am told that I will be shipped out of this area as they do not believe that locals will do as they are told against their friends and neighbors. It prevents entanglements, or so they say. I will do my best to keep in touch in any way I can. If need be, head to Bea's as I am sure her brothers would all welcome you with open arms and protect you for your own sake and not just for hers. Do not stay at the house just for my sake or memory as this is not my desire. My greatest wish is for you and our children to be safe. As I trust you, trust me to do my best to come back to you as soon as I can. Be patient. Be safe. Be my love. Your Novio."

I wasn't sure what I would have said even if I could have spoken at that moment but Greg, in his own eccentric way, seemed to understand. I was finally able to clear my voice and ask him, "What is going on Greg? Don't … look, I'm not the helpless little woman that Mateo sometimes … I'm …" I took another breath and was finally able to finish. "Greg, I know I don't look like much and probably do not have near the experience that I should have. Dad and Mateo pretty well insulated me from the worst that could have happened in this life. But, that was then and this is now. I have Nydia and this baby to think about and I can't make constructive and efficient plans if I don't really know what is going on."

Greg just looked at me for a moment and then, "I guess you've got the right of it but Matt won't want you getting up to things. And let's be honest, your condition is a liability and some folks are gonna think that makes you an easy mark. I can't have people guarding this place all the time. You need to be able to look after yourself as much as possible. The thing is I have to know how far I can trust you. Women talk even when they don't mean to and …"

"Greg, you do not want to go that direction with me."

"Don't matter what you want. It's what I know to be true. Women talk and don't always think first." He stopped a moment looked at my face and then continued, "But for the sake of argument let's say people in general talk and let things slip on accident when they shouldn't."

"And exactly who would I be letting things slip to? I've never been much for socializing here in the neighborhood. The fact that I used to be the nanny and am a few years younger than Mateo has made most of the women assume that I'm no better than I should be. More than a few of them have acted like I'm a gold digger or worse. I'm certainly not going to go around talking to strange men … except you I mean. The only place I have driven since the doctor cleared me was to the market and I did that as little as possible and I don't think I'll be able to do it at all now because it would mean taking Nydia with me and leaving the house unprotected. There is no one living on either side of us now. The people across the street act nuttier than a field full of peanuts and had to be dragged from their house for the FVB organizers to see that they are several bricks shy of a load and physically incapable of prolonged physical activity."

"Yeah, them folks is some of the people I'm suggesting you avoid. They've got booby traps all over their property and one of my people said he's seen them out at night creeping around the neighborhood breaking into abandoned houses. And they aren't the only ones. If I don't miss my guess things is about to get downright rough for folks. Y'all have had it easy in this neighborhood but that could be changing sooner than you think." He shook his head and continued, "The world is going crazy, crazier than normal. Things could start popping and I ain't too sure that being this close to MacDill is a good thing. Then again, could be because of the importance of what's on the Base that things won't get half so bad here as they might if war breaks out."

"War?!"

"I thought you was a history teacher. You got your head buried in the sand or something?"

"No, of course not but why do you say war? It would seem that countries have enough of their own problems to spend their energies on and wouldn't have the time to start a war. And the news hasn't been that bad."

"Says you," he muttered and that's when he filled me in on many of the international incidences that were being kept off of the airwaves.

"Mateo knew about all of this?" I asked, shocked in spite of myself.

"Sure. Sure he did. Why do you think he went as far as he did? Just because you got a little squirrel in you and like to play at being prepared for the winter?"

I don't know why I always forget how blunt Greg can be. He'll say something and just keep going, not giving you the chance to do anything but forgive him or forget it and right when you are getting comfortable he goes and does it again.

"Look here now. Maybe Matt was trying to protect you from things by not telling it to you completely straight but I ain't him. I don't have time to babysit you. I'll do what I can 'cause I owe Matt. He gave me a hand up when most folks just walked by and spit on me. He told me I seemed like a good investment. Well, turns out I even surprised myself at how good an investment I've turned out to be. I figure he's due a good return on the chance he took. So, I'll help you when I can but not at the expense of my people or our mission. Things is too important now, play time is over. Now the real work starts. And stay out of the swamp if you know what's good for you. You think I'm rough as old raw hide you really don't want to meet up with some of the others. We've got our own way and it probably ain't your way so just leave us to it and stay out of the way."

Greg had about had his fill of civilized conversation at that point and I could see he was getting antsy. I offered him a zip bag of instant grits to take with him and he didn't turn me down. And I was more than ready for him to leave as I had a lot of thinking to do.

I checked on Nydia and found she was ready for a change of scenery. I kept waiting for her to bring Mateo up but she didn't and when I tried she'd just turn her head away like she was ignoring what I had to say. I knew I'd need to address this, and soon, but I was at a loss as to how right then. After taking care of her, giving her a snack and switching out a few toys and giving in to her request to watch Beauty and the Beast I pulled out a clipboard and some notebook paper and started making a list of things that I needed to do.

I started back where I had started in the beginning; the basics. Shelter. That was already taken care of by moving our sleeping area up to the bonus room. I wandered through the house noting things here and there that would make us more comfortable or that I wanted to move out of sight for security purposes. A small writing table and chair so I could work upstairs was one of the first additions. I moved a five gallon bucket with a snap on toilet lid upstairs as well and took one of the down stairs bathroom's shower curtain and strung it across a corner for some privacy. An antique pitcher and basin and a mirror completed our "bathroom facilities." I also took the Chinese screen from the lanai up there and put it near a rolling rack and we had a changing area. I took some hooks and screwed them into the wall low enough that Nydia could hang her clothes on at night and her night clothes on in the morning. An old telephone table became my nightstand. My one real bit of silliness was when I dragged both of the stuffed Queen Anne chairs up from Mateo's office. They took up space that we could have used for storage but I've since been very grateful for my momentary aberration. Since I've grown so big it's been nice to have one comfortable place that I can sit in up there, especially since I spend so much time hidden away in this location.

After shelter I started on food and water while I fixed the quiche since the power was scheduled to be on in thirty minutes and we were supposed to get a whole afternoon of uninterrupted service. Since I'd heard that one often enough to know it was true about only half the time, I worked as fast as I could and I put ice trays in the freezer in the hopes of having something cool to drink when the power went off tonight. While I patted the crust into the tart pan and then fixed the filling I made note of all the things I would need if we went without power for a prolonged length of time. I was relieved to confirm we already had everything we needed but it wasn't necessarily at easy reach if I was stuck in the bonus room for a prolonged period.

I decided that the first order of business would be to put together some mixes and meals that only required hot water to complete them. That would be easy enough to get because I could siphon off water from the passive solar heater that looked like it was hooked up to the pool. That was one of Mateo's ideas. We had to run the piping in through the soffit and fascia but no one, not even Greg, realized just how we continued to have hot water despite not having electrical power on a fairly regular basis. The pipe ran directly to the shower in the master bathroom but it also had a turn off valve and spigot in the bonus room. I moved a large and rather ugly orange igloo cooler upstairs and put it on a metal patio table. The cooler held ten gallons and I figured that that would give Nydia and I a couple of days of drinking water but I knew that I would need to keep it topped off.

The other thing I did was to bring up the 12V picnic cooler. I had an inverter that I could plug it into and so long as I keep a series of batteries charged using our PV panels I have what amounts to a handy dandy little refrigerator. It won't freeze anything but 40 degrees F is nothing to turn your nose up at either; especially on really hot nights when all you can do is drink quart after quart of cool water to try and keep from burning up. I always keep several cups for Nydia in the cooler at all times. The solar attic fans go a long way towards easing our misery as well, but if hot air is all there is to move around the fans can only do so much.

To hold our dishes and dishpan – had to have some way to clean what we ate on after all – I brought up the materials to build a little shelf but that was a project for the next day because I knew my next task was pretty much going to spend all of my remaining energy if not a little more.

The floor of the bonus room is reinforced concrete board so it can take quite a bit of weight. After only one night I knew that sleeping on the floor, even if it was on a mattress, was only going to get harder as I got further along in the pregnancy. I brought up a bunch of super pails filled with dried beans and grains – I had to tie them to the dolly and drag them up the stairs since they were so heavy – and then I laid a piece of plywood over the top of them creating a "box springs" for me to lay the mattress on. They are nearly the perfect height and by putting a bed skirt across the plywood it's almost like having a real bed.

I've added things here and there over the last several weeks, like a couple of floor rugs to keep the plywood splinters out of Nydia's feet. I wouldn't call the space anything like Spartan, but it's not the Ritz either.

The week right after Mateo was taken away was hectic. I spent a lot of time putting together "instant meal" packages, keeping up with my normal list of chores plus the ones that Mateo had taken on or at least helped me with like gathering the water from the barrels, and trying to think of all of the problems that I could run into. I didn't see anyone during this time; not Greg, any of "his people," nor any of the neighbors. Greg was always a see-him-when-he-shows-up type of guy but not really seeing any of the neighbors out and about was really freaky.

It was two days before I really began to get outside myself enough to notice just how empty the street felt. Both of the neighboring houses were empty and both had been gutted with government approval; one local, the other federal. The only sounds were those of nature – the wind, birds, bugs, etc. Every once in a while I'd hear a bus or some kind of big truck out on US41 but otherwise it was too strange because I knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there were other people in the neighborhood. It made me wonder though just how many people were left and if they were all hunkering down like I was.

The next night I heard the gravel on the roof like I had before and went down more carefully this time … and with two of the guns. One was a .22 rifle that Dad had taught me to shoot with and the other was a small hi-point pistol that I hoped wasn't going to break my wrist if I had to use it. Lucky for my nerves and my wrist it was Greg in a crankier mood than usual; but all he did was tell me to do something about my garden because he didn't have a lot of time to waste keeping people out of it.

"People are getting hungry and word has spread that the FVB has taken most of the men out of this area. Your garden variety scavengers are starting to move through. They ain't up thisa way yet, but nine'll get you ten it won't take 'em long. I know Matt has the barn fixed so no one is breaking in there, and there's gators in the swamp again too," he said with a grin that let me know that he probably had something to do with the reptiles I saw sunning themselves the previous day. "They won't bother coming thata way no how 'cause it's too much like work when they can just walk up the middle of the street with impunity."

"Impunity? What about cops or the national guard or …"

Greg shook his head, "Matt didn't do you no favors did he. Look Leah … I can call you that right?" At my affirmative he continued. "Y'all folks have had it pretty good up to this point. And it doesn't sound like Matt really kept you completely up to speed with what all has been going on out in the real world."

"Greg …" I said warningly, reminding him I didn't exactly appreciate being treated like a little girl.

"Greg me all you want but it's the truth. Now if I was to ever get me a woman I'd want her to be smart and tough. You got the smart part all right but you ain't had the information to be able to use it. I just don't know if you got the tough part though. And you're gonna need to be tough. I promised Matt I'd keep an eye on you and he knows I would anyway since I'm such a sucker but the truth is I could be gone from this world in the next heartbeat and you gotta be able to take care of you and the little gal and the one you got in your belly. Now get on back inside and I'll keep the varmints out tonight but tomorrow you're gonna have to do some thinking on what is a priority … what's worth saving and what you're willing to give up."

A priority? What was I willing to give up? Two questions that I had already been asking myself and depending on the circumstances coming up with new answers each time. But the garden issue was a new one for me and would really take some thinking. In the end, after all my thinking and praying about what was the wisest course of action, I harvested what I could as it came up but didn't replant anything. Any replanting I did was done in containers and a huge new task was added to the total of my daily chores. The containers were outside from daybreak to sunset then I would wheel them in using the dolly. I haven't done half bad but the harvests have sharply declined. Most everything gets eaten fresh because not enough is left over to be worth the effort of preserving.

The work is hard and I've had to be very careful. I see strangers come through the neighborhood with guns several times a week now. I've let the yard go to seed as much as I can and still stay within the local laws. I go out at night every week and a half and use a swing blade to keep things trimmed if not manicured. I continue to try and keep up with our edible landscaping out of necessity but only on nights of the full moon so that I don't have to use a light. I've learned to use smell and touch as much as sight to detect ripeness and harvest time. My night vision has improved in the exact proportion that my daytime sight has deteriorated.

And why am I living like a nocturnal creature? Some very simple reasons and they all have to do with comfort and survival.

War … once a specter … is now a reality. Who our enemy is though is a mystery to me. Is it the internal terrorists that our government seems to be obsessed with and constantly running in fear of? It is almost like we are fighting a war on two fronts; one multi-national and overseas and a civil war that hasn't quite broken out yet. Is it the home countries of the terrorists that almost daily strike at our infrastructure and technological capacity? Is it with China and her allies as they try and bleed us dry economically and with whom this Administration seems to have a love/hate relationship with? And what kind of war are we fighting? Economic, religious, ideological, or geographical?

Tampa has suffered at least as much as some of the other cities in our nation. One of the first acts of terror was when a boat was exploded underneath the Skyway Bridge while at the same time a bus was exploded on the Gandy Bridge, destroying both of them at the highest spans. It will cost billions to repair the bridges and the money just isn't there to do it so the bridges sit, a depressing reminder of how vulnerable we are when someone really wants to strike at us.

The Curren Wastewater Treatment Plant in Clearwater was sabotaged with a bomb under the huge chlorine gas tank. When it exploded it sent a deadly plume of toxic gas around the Bay Area. More than a few people died and thousands were made ill, some permanently disabled. Other areas have also been sabotaged: the Clorox plant, the Hillsborough River Water Treatment Plant, the Bayside Power Plant, and companies like DPC Enterprises and Harcros Chemicals. The main gates at MacDill AFB have been attacked three times and now the whole base has been put on a war footing and there are soldiers with machine guns that patrol the new wall that has been built to keep people out. Neighborhoods surrounding the base have been evacuated and taken over by imminent domain. Buildings for yards in every direction of the wall have been bulldozed down and concertina wire and other types of barriers, some that go boom, have been laid.

The Port of Tampa, once a thriving industrial complex, is now more or less an extension of MacDill as the military and quasi-military have taken it over. The civilian dockhands have their own love/hate relationship with this new reality. On the one hand it has made the dock areas much less vulnerable to the drug and organized crime issues that once plagued the area, on the other hand it has made the port an even bigger target for international terrorism and several incidences have been hushed up if rumors are to be believed.

Busch Gardens has made a good living off of the dramatic increase in military presence in the area. Special discounts available to certain types of non-civilian federal personnel has allowed the tourist attraction to remain viable when many other such tourist enterprises have failed. Of course, getting into the park is a rare experience; metal detectors, body searches, no back packs or coolers (not even for the baby), strollers and wheelchairs must be rented inside the park, if you have a purse of any kind it has to be small and clear plastic, there are concrete barricades and armed guards all over the place. I suppose all of that has become most people's new normal. To me it is just …

It is like watching pictures of how South and Central America used to be; paid security people – most of them former military of some type – who walked around with automatic weapons looking tough and menacing. Or the pictures of Sarajevo or Bosnia as they descended into every increasing amounts of chaos. This wasn't supposed to happen here, not to my country, not to my family.

But it has happened and it is happening. What really frightens me is that Nydia has begun to accept things as "normal." She doesn't ask for Mateo anymore. I have to remind her to include him in her prayers. It is like she is forgetting him out of self-defense; that remembering him is just too painful for her little psyche to handle. I keep lots of pictures of him up on the walls, pictures of him by himself, pictures of her and him together, pictures of us all together. But the baby is more real to her than Mateo is, she seems to have transferred the devotion she used to reserve for him to this unborn child I carry. Sometimes that causes such an ache in me that it is all I can do to not let her see me cry because it confuses and upsets her.

She sees only me and the pictures made when I allow her to watch the little DVD television, something I ration by necessity and by choice. She has her toys, her dollies, and her books. She plays in the sunbeams that come through the window when I feel it is safe to have the curtains upstairs open. She hasn't been downstairs in weeks. At first this was a real problem for such an active little girl but slowly she adjusted and I have to make an effort to get her to talk so that she doesn't lose any more of the communication skills than she has. Am I doing right by her? But I've seen them come and remove children from homes, seen the crying and hysteria … or worse, the stoic belief that they are giving their children the only chance they might have for a square meal. I wonder if that is how it felt for those English parents to send their children to the countryside during WWII?

I go downstairs only when necessary, only when I'm sure that Nydia won't wake up and come looking for me. I've moved what I can upstairs into this room and the spare bedroom. I've screwed the door to the room shut from the inside and the only access to it is through a crawl space that I cut from our hiding room. The opening of the crawl space is hidden behind a false intake cover. I think it will be big enough even when I'm nine momths along, but it will be a tight fit.

I can't risk leaving the house or the yard for fear that someone will come along and break in or the FVB will come along and confiscate what they believe is an abandoned house or the local municipality might do the same thing. I have to make it seem like someone is living in the house but at the same time I can't make it obvious or I could make us a target of those that think we may have more than they do. My "garden" keeps us in fresh food, but barely enough.

Water is a problem. Even with the solar power to run the well we can't risk the noise of the pump motor running unless the power is on to the neighborhood. When the power is on, about three times a week lately, the float switch kicks on in the cistern and it refills. I also refill any empty barrels using a hose that I run from the cistern into the house. Thank God for the huge concrete cap on the cistern or someone would likely have had it opened and emptied long ago. Nothing that can be carried off survives long left outside and unattended; I lost a water hose like that and a couple of empty plant pots and that's just about as far as I want to have to learn that lesson.

But to be on the safe side since I never know when we'll have power and how long that we won't I built a sand filter. It is a contraption I read about in one of the books that I've brought upstairs. I have a notebook full of notes from those books but not a lot of ability to implement them right now, but the filter I thought was both doable and wise.

I took an old plastic barrel that was too difficult for Mateo and I to move when it was full of water and then rolled it to the door in front of the walk in pantry. This door opened out so with the barrel in front of it the door couldn't be opened. I had a reason for this. I needed more room to store our belongings in and the hidden room was directly above the pantry but I'll get to that in a moment.

First I installed a PVC spigot near the bottom of barrel. Then I put some decorative river rock in the bottom of the barrel. The sound of dropping that stuff in nearly gave me a heart attack and I worried that someone would hear what I was doing and come investigate. Justified or not, that is how paranoid I've become. On top of the decorative river rock I put an even smaller grade of pebbles and then on top of this I scooped in fine grained playground sand that Mateo had bought for Nydia during better times. We were planning on building a jungle gym for her but it never happened.

At night I go to where the swamp comes up to our property and dip in a couple of buckets. The water is very nasty. Rather than clog up the sand filter I first pour the water through a screen to get rid of the worst of the gunk. If the water still looks pretty bad I'll let it settle out and then skim the best water off the top and pour it into the sand filter. It took a lot of water before anything would come out of the spigot below. I suppose I should have dampened the sand as it went in so it would compact better. You live, you learn.

Eventually water did run through the sand filter but I'm a bit of a freak about that sort of stuff so I decided to take it a little further. I added a minute amount of powdered alum to a couple of gallons of filtered water to act like a flocculent. This settled out even the finest particles and I siphoned off the good top water and then went even further and sanitized that with a little bleach. It still bothers me when I think about where the water came from but the heat drives us to need a lot of water for drinking and for keeping cool.

During the worst heat of the day Nydia and I take our naps with the solar fans going as much as possible. I keep the fans greased so they make little noise. I pray that the little bearings will hold up for as long as they need to. I don't know how we would live up here if we didn't have those little fans to help draw the heat that rises into this space.

Those mid-day naps also help me to do the work I need to at night. Without those naps I wouldn't be able to stay awake through the long hours. Nydia is getting to be a night owl as well. I worry that she'll eventually have some kind of health problems but then again, people live where it is "night time" half the year and adjust to it. It's a shame though that we have to adjust at all. But I see no alternative right now.

The woman that Greg had found to play me in exchange for sharing my ration points has disappeared. Greg thinks it was a voluntary move on her part to be out west with some relatives she had out there but he is still hacked off that she didn't give notice. He hasn't been able to find a replacement and the latest bunch of ration points are beginning to expire. I'm not really worried, not yet. I called my OB/gyn to let them know that I couldn't get transportation to my appointments and lo and behold I find that the doctor's office is being closed and that they'll eventually find me a new doctor. Eventually. What a laugh. I have a feeling that they'll call to schedule an appointment with this new doctor about seven months after the baby has been born.

The birth looms closer and closer. I've begun to set up my own maternity wing in our already cramped quarters. It looks like I'm on my own unless a miracle presents itself between now and then. Mateo, where are you? I need you!

Things continue to escalate to a horrific degree. Crime is off the chart, or it would be if they bothered charting it any longer. They are using the "war" overseas to switch the focus away from what is happening here at home. I wonder if that is what happened during WWII in some countries like Germany. Were the people so involved in trying to understand the fighting in Europe, trying to keep track of their loved ones in battle that they failed to see what was happening to their own neighbors in their own backyard?

Well I don't know where my loved one is. I don't have a clue. If Greg knows he isn't saying, not that I see him much these days. Greg is playing some deep game and it seems to be really personal to him. I don't ask anymore; he never answered me when I asked in the beginning and it became a waste of energy. But with Greg and his people gone you can tell the vermin are slowly making their way back into the neighborhood. I think maybe yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. Am I thinking about this too much? Did I do the right thing?

The moon was full and I had a lot to do. Code Enforcement is pretty regular about making the rounds to make sure that everyone is in compliance with the conservation rules, they also still ding you on the beautification standards that the FVB set several months back. Busy work to keep the body moving and the mind numb with the heat and fatigue. What I wouldn't give for a goat. On the other hand how would I take care of it and keep it safe? What is that old saying? Wish in one hand and fecal matter in the other and wait to see which one weighs the most? Wishing gets you nowhere.

I used the big cradle scythe and cut most of the front yard in a couple of hours. I have muscles now that I've never had before in my whole life. I look ridiculous too, big belly getting in the way of nearly every swing, but a girl does what she has to. I've also taken to carrying the .22 rifle with me everywhere when I step out of the hidden room. It rides across my back and the strap leaves a band of sweat across my bosom.

I was all done in; the heat hadn't really abated despite the sun going down. The humidity made it hard to breathe. The blackberries were late this year so there were still some to gather and I was in the tall shadow of the fence doing just that when I heard breaking glass. Someone was close; too close. I listened again and could hear some noise across the street. Then I heard a cry and then a scream. A yell of rage followed that was abruptly cut off. Then I heard some rough laughter and a door banging open and sounds of a scuffle. Rough language told me someone was being dragged out into the yard.

I must be certifiable but I couldn't just walk away. If nothing else I had to witness what went down so that I could report it to Greg … or that is the justification I placated myself with.

I followed the fence line down to our gate and then got down in a patch of grass I hadn't gotten around to cutting yet since it was too near the Confederate Jasmine for the scythe to make sense. I looked out through the bars of the gate and saw three males dragging the woman that lived across the street into the yard. You can guess what they were after. I guess the light of the moon only made things better so they could see their debauchery.

No one was coming. No one would help. Then a thought crept over me. I was already here. I didn't have to stand by and do nothing. Who would know? It was dark and if I did it right there wouldn't be anyone left to tell the tale anyway.

Daddy didn't raise me to do things by half measure. When he taught me to shoot, he expected me to become proficient. It had been a long time since I'd gone hunting but it isn't like they were trying to hide. The moonlight was like a spotlight. They were all inside of one hundred feet. I couldn't miss.

I didn't miss. One. Two. Three. And then four when the third one staggered up only gut shot. The woman slowly sat up and stopped her crying. I could see her frantically looking into the dark, trying to see who had done the shooting. I didn't dare move. The last thing I want to be known as is a vigilante.

When she didn't see anyone she grabbed a large rocked that had been used as a decorative garden marker. She raised and then brought it down on each man's head until they were all squishy. The man from inside came stumbling out, blood pouring from a head wound looking black in the night. The couple held each other. Then the oddest thing happened.

The couple became all business. They stripped each man of everything, leaving them buck naked … or what was left of them anyway. The rock had made a worse mess than my bullets had. Then the couple each grabbed an arm and I saw them drag the bodies away one at a time. When the last body had been dragged away the couple took a bag of oak leaves and up ended them and then used a tree +branch to rake them around. I suppose they were destroying evidence. I wondered though how they knew what to do and whether they had already had practice at it since it seemed they knew what to do without even talking about it. Too weird.

After the couple went inside I waited a few minutes and then crept back to the backyard and then scurried into the house when a cloud covered the moon. I was half way up the stairs before the reality of what I had done hit me. I barely made it to the bathroom in time. I haven't been that sick since I started the morning heaves.

I shook off and on for most of the night. I still have a hard time believing I did what I did. I haven't dared think about what is going to happen if someone figures out what I've done. How could I do that? How could I endanger Nydia and this baby? What a fool I am. On the other hand how would I have felt had I done nothing but watch? Would I have been next, a woman alone with no one to protect or defend me?

I'm so tired, so scared. I want Mateo here, now. I need him here, now. But it looks like God has other plans. Please, if I can't have Mateo, please give me the wisdom I need to be the mother I must be and the strength to protect and provide for my children. Please. I can't do this as I am right now.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Part Five: Where's My Ruby Slippers?**_

I came up here to check and I think the explosions have finally stopped for a while. This is the third time we've been attacked like this and I have already had as much as I want to take of it. Nydia is finally asleep and I'm going to let her be; I'm going to sit up here for a while longer and try to pull myself together. I've made a circuit of the house and not much new has been damaged thank God but I'm still rattled. I've left the trap door open so I'll hear Nydia if she wakes. I just need to escape the claustrophobia and rank smell of fear for a while. And going back down that ladder is beyond my back for now as well. It feels like I have a bowling ball wedged between my hip bones.

I would have written before now … should have written this down before now … but all of my energy has been focused on completing my plans and just making it hour by hour without my fear choking the life from me. The last time I wrote it helped me to gain some perspective and get my thoughts in order. This time I hope to conquer my fear and find a path forward. Maybe I should have taken the chance and gotten out while I could but I still don't know how I would have made it there with the dangers to be found on the road. A very pregnant woman all alone with only a small girl child? God protect me from ever even having to imagine what our fate could have been.

Within a week of my last entry I found out that I really was an innocent when it came to war, was being the operative word here. Reading about it in textbooks or seeing old movie reels doesn't begin to touch the reality of experiencing it firsthand. After everything we have gone through I thought I was hardened, prepared. I was wrong. How many more times am I going to be faced with my newest level of naiveté? You always think "this is as bad as it gets." Wrong. Don't fool yourself, it can always get worse.

A low slung boat, the kind that used to run drugs between Florida and the islands, was able to avoid detection and sneak into the Port of Tampa. Witnesses say that by the time it was identified it was too late; it ran full speed into the fuel depot. It wouldn't have done near as much damage as it did except that it had been loaded with a large quantity of high explosives and that in turn set off a chain reaction with some additional sabotage on shore.

Radio broadcasts said that the terrorist blew himself up and that his co-conspirators were quickly captured. I don't know whether to believe that or not. The last time I saw Greg was right after the port explosion and he reminded me of something my dad used to say, "Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see." A veritable feast of propaganda is offered up every day on the two remaining public radio stations. I'm told it was on billboards, carried by FVB members on placards, and on leaflets passed out with ration books … not that we have any of that going on around here these days. It's all feel-good-about-this-administration type stuff and that the FVB are your friends and just believe in us and we'll keep you safe and your way of life on the upswing. You don't see the military very often; I've probably seen them as much as anyone left around here. You still see busloads of the FVB troops in their strange blue overalls and recently the rumors about UN troops operating on US soil has been proven as well. In the beginning they were only here as "observers" but when the UN building … but I'm getting ahead of myself.

At the same time the Port of Tampa explosions were going on the same type of crew had tried to do the same thing to the waterside of MacDill AFB. But attacking a civilian port is a different animal than trying to attack an active and heavily fortified military base. A squad of Marines who were in town for a training exhibition, in cooperation with a Coast Guard LR1 and two Defender class boats, blew the semi-sub drug runner out of the water killing all on board several miles from shore. It was a wakeup call for locals and the government; or it was for a lot of people, there are probably people with their heads in the sand even now. I've lost what little confidence I had left in the average human's intelligence. The loss of my innocence has left in its wake a heavy cynicism and a loss of confidence in my own species.

Overnight the country went from being on a quasi-war footing that was mostly talk and warnings couched in hyperbole to being on a real one that required a crackdown on the public and most personal freedoms. The President's Administration rapidly lost what little popular support it had left. The NAACP and a lot of other so-called civil rights groups nearly strangled on their own screams and efforts to be heard over all the other noise. Rights? What rights? We are at war and it isn't just talk. And it isn't just a bunch of infighting between ideological groups that can't get along. Threats have manifested themselves into action.

Looks like everyone wants a piece of us these days and this Administration seems to be dealing more with the President's self-esteem issues than with the reality facing our nation. We have a president that was voted in, not by overwhelming numbers, but because people were ready for yet another change … I've lost count of how many that makes. Unfortunately, the change was to an administration that was a product of the good times when what you wanted was there to get. Their responses to the economic and geopolitical stresses this country faces has been naive to irresponsible and ill thought out to absolutely criminal in scope. And now we haven't heard a peep out of them offering any solace or guidance. For all I know not a one of them even breathes anymore but I won't ruminate on the consequences of that just yet.

Now add into that mess the personal problems of some of the members of this administration and you've got a catastrophe that is three-quarters in the starting gate. Or should I make that three-quarters out of the starting gate? There have been calls for over a week for some kind of response to what has been happening and nary a peep has been uttered by anyone above the Press Secretary. Even before this past week rumors were rampant … behind the scenes tantrums that bordered on the neurotic, rumors of a mistress quickly hushed up only to resurface again and again, chest pains leading to strong warnings of coronary artery disease, stories of loud family discord fueled primarily by a teenage daughter rebelling against public expectations and emotionally cold parental figures. But that stuff is what you would see in the tabloid magazines and may or may not be true. What is scary are the stories of doctors being called into the family's quarters to administer sedatives; the doctor calls confirmed with squirreled out photos and muffled recordings of phone calls. What isn't known is who in the family the drugs were for. There are other unsubstantiated stories of emotional problems as well.

As it stands now the President and his Administration control the civil troops but I'm not so certain that they control the military any longer. The President is the Commander-in-Chief but his competency to hold the job is a question mark. The time for questionable diplomatic efforts is at an end. War has reached our shores. No hiding behind the drapes either and that appears to be what he is doing.

It has been since Pearl Harbor, and before that the US Civil War, that an actual war has been fought on US soil. There have been things called "war" – the war on poverty, the war on drugs, the war on terror – but true war has not visited this country's continental territory in over 150 years. It is a lot for people to wrap their heads around, even me.

And the war we are in is like no other we have ever fought. There is no one single enemy with a single cause. Our enemies fight each other as often as they try and battle us. The fact that they work at cross purposes to one another so much is probably the only reason we haven't been eaten alive yet. All along our Southern Border, into the Gulf and for a ways up both the western and eastern coastlines we are being attacked by a coalition of Central and South American countries whose primary stated goal is uniting the Americas into one Spanish Confederation similar to the original European Union model only more politically aligned under some type of board of directors. Om the other hand their actions tell another story. Leaders are settling old grievances, taking revenge, and destabilizing and dividing rather than uniting. I don't believe the players have the ability to share anything much less power the likes of which they are after and that will be their downfall; but they'll do a great deal of damage until they fail.

Not every country down that way is on board with the plan. Coast Rica, Argentina, Panama, Belize and Columbia are big stand outs but they have so many problems of their own at home that they can do little in the way to stop what is happening. Social pressures and poverty has caused Guatemala to explode into another vicious civil war. Cartels based in nearly every country down there behave more like warlords preying on locals since war has shut down their normal drug trafficking routes; army commanders shoot any soldier caught with drugs since an army high on drugs is useless.

Mexico's stance in the war depends on who you talk to and on which day of the week. The Mexican President and his family were blown up by a drug lord so no one really knows who's in charge down there these days. One day it will be some general, the next it will be a charismatic populist, and another it will be some anarchist that has gotten a taste for power who is trying to consolidate his position. Up is down and down is sideways; the country is a politically and socially chaotic mess.

Refugees from all points south drive through Mexico like locusts and were literally stampeding across the borders of Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, and California trying to escape the armies pouring through their own countries. The states were beginning to collapse and the President wasn't sending any federal troops to help. Homeland Security was handicapped at the top by the political appointment trying to play both ends with wild swings that more often than not put the American citizen under a jack boot and not those who put our way of life at risk.

Too many special interest groups vied for attention never realizing that this administration's answer to everything was procrastination so it could be blamed on someone else or be put off until it was someone else's problem. Besides it is … was … an election year. The war is already bringing with it a suggestion that elections will be "delayed." When asked how long the only answer offered was "for as long as it takes."

The refugees brought with them hunger and disease, especially things like dysentery and cholera and tuberculosis and measles. There were riots when the few charities authorized and willing to serve this influx ran out of food and water. Then the illegal refugees started setting up squatters' camps, destroying local farms and ranches in their search for food and shelter. That quickly degenerated into armed Mexican militias occupying US soil when the feds refused to take action to support local law enforcement efforts.

This Administration even tried to bring federal charges against several law enforcement departments in Texas and Arizona and even tried to have some LEOs arrested for murder for defending themselves against assassination attempts. Homeland Sercurity threatened to charge ranchers with premeditated murder if they set up traps and shooting blinds on their property to protect their families and their livelihoods from being destroyed by the interlopers.

Then the Texas governor decided he'd had enough after a hospital had all but burned to the ground during a riot when staff tried to quarantine a Mexican National that came in with symptoms of advanced TB. The governor called in the Texas Air National Guard made up of battled hardened veterans home on leave from the Middle East. Then the Arizona governor added the Arizona National Guard. Militia groups from four other border states added their support and, using lethal force, began to push the swarm of armed refugees back across the US-Mexico border.

The Pentagon finally got fed up and did an end run around Congress. They gathered evidence that the Spanish Coalition forces were instigating much of the civilian problems and were supplying weaponry. Also, they captured spies that carried information that Fort Bliss had been targeted for a major assault and as a result, that basically militarized the southern border of the US without a directive from Congress or the President. It was an amazing thing to hear about on the radio, unprecedented in this time period. That is why I begin to wonder if the Commander-in-Chief is really in command, it really does look like the Pentagon and the state Governors did an end run around the Executive Branch of the government … and were allowed to get away with it by Congress and the Judicial branch.

But our national and international woes do not end there. In the Pacific Northwest and in Alaska there were a lot of assets absconded with by people of both Chinese and Russian connections masquerading as fishing fleets. The outflow stopped when those states took a page from the playbook of states along the southern border and allowed their militias and National Guard troops to take matters in hand. Rumors had it that off-duty or on-leave federal troops often went along on patrols to "observe" but in reality were training and leading some of the civilian teams.

The Midwest and Northeast of the country were primarily battling Islamic jihadist. The religious violence has begun to spread and encompass many enclaves of Islamic communities. Here in Tampa, Temple Terrace had a very large Islamic community, reportedly with some sleeper cells in it. Most of the community was peaceable but enough of them were not that Homeland Security stepped in, added by local law enforcement and troops from MacDill when the protests expanded and the violence increased significantly. It got bloody which has essentially turned the whole community into extremists out for revenge. Large numbers of men from the Islamic community have been rounded up and put into what amounts to internment camps; guilty until proven innocent because even if they did not personally participate in the violence they harbored and protected the people who had.

All of this didn't happen overnight. I spent the week immediately after the port explosions inventorying and consolidating what was still in the house and garage and finalizing (or so I thought) the extension of our "hidden" space. I thought the walk-in pantry was going to add a lot of room but by the time I moved more food supplies in there it was no better than a coat closet.

I have been constantly exhausted because the new demands on my energy are on top of the ones that already existed – Nydia, water gathering, taking care of our daily needs, the gardening such as it was. I've gotten to the point I don't even have time to miss Mateo except in my dreams. I could also see I was losing weight which in my condition was a bad thing. Had the baby not continued to move around I would have been even more worried than I was. I made sure to take what prenatal vitamins I had – they are all gone now which is yet another reason why the edible landscaping is so important – and I increased my fats and fluids where I could, but it has not been easy considering that we are living on bulk food storage for over 50% of our diet, most of it dried.

Nydia is growing up, losing the "baby look" and doesn't even look like a toddler much anymore. She is my shadow and my helper. She's already memorized the names of all the tools I use and can count to twelve consistently. I'm not sure Mateo will recognize her when … if … when he comes home. When … it has to be when; I can't let the "if" in.

The end of that week saw me doing pretty much what I had done every night up to that point. Nydia and I had gotten up late in the morning. After making sure the house was still secure and the shutters and window coverings were still in place, I fixed a hearty brunch that would hold us until a later dinner all the while trying to make sure no odor escaped to alert anyone that we still had food and fuel to cook it with. Then I went to work on the inside chores and whatever projects I had going.

As darkness descended I got Nydia ready for bed by playing quietly with her for a short while then reading her a chapter out of some book; that night I think it was Little Women. Sometimes it was Anne of Green Gables, some nights she would pick Elsie Dinsmore. She seemed to be only able to handle the Little House on the Prairie series so long as Pa wasn't mentioned too often. That tells me she still misses Mateo even if she can't verbalize it.

After I tucked her in I told her I had to work for a while longer but for her it was time to go to sleep.

"Nonny, don't go."

"I have work to do Precious. I'll try to not be long."

"The dark is scary," she whispered.

"Oh Baby Doll, you have your flashlight," I reminded her as I pointed to the wind up flashlight I had hung on a nail beside her bed. "And you know that God is with you even if you can't see Him. God is bigger than the boogeyman, remember?"

She hunched her shoulders and we proceeded to have the same conversation we have had nearly every third night. "Why Nonny? Why do you have to go? I don't like it."

"I'm not going far and I won't be long, Sugar. Just downstairs and into the yard for a while."

"But why Nonny?"

"Because God gave me a special commission when he put you in my care. And this baby too. I have to tend the plants to make sure we have food."

"We have all the boxes and cans."

"The boxes and cans won't last forever Sweet Heart and it isn't good for us if that is the only kind of food we have to eat. We need fresh food. And we also need water, and that doesn't come in boxes or cans."

She gave a short but defeated pout. "But the boogermans are out there. What if the boogermans get you?"

"I'm always careful Nydia. God watches over me too just like He watches over you … even in the dark … even when there are scary people around."

"Why can't I come?! I'll help. I'll carry the basket just like I did today."

"Because this is the time for children to be in their beds and getting their rest so that they can grow up strong and healthy."

Then she got a sly look on her face like she'd just thought of an argument I couldn't beat. "But the baby isn't in bed. The baby is a children so the baby needs to be in bed too."

"Nydia," I said warningly, growing weary of the repeat argument that always seemed to take the same old paths. "This isn't going to work. You are going to stay in bed and you will go to sleep. I love you and I'm doing this for you and the baby and because it is my responsibility since I'm the grown up. It can't be play time all of the time. Right now is my work time and it is your sleep time. The longer you argue the later I am going to be starting my work which means the longer it is going to be before I can come to bed with you."

After lots of hugs and kisses and promises to be as quick as possible Nydia finally collapsed and went to sleep, even if it was unwillingly. She really is a good helper despite being extremely strong willed on occasion but she doesn't just sit around all day acting like a little priss and that is something I really appreciate right now. In history I read stories of three year olds helping to build log cabins, helping to tend the garden, getting water from the creek or well, and being responsible for chores with the animals. I always had a hard time understanding how the people of long ago could do that to such young children … children who were little more than babies … but now I understand it. It is because for the family to survive they had no choice. For everyone to eat, everyone had to work. But it is a frightening commentary to realize we are returning to those days in this country.

Yes, I do know God is with me but I also know He expects me to use the good sense He gifted me with. I put on dark clothes, black socks, tennis shoes that I had stained dark brown with some of Mateo's old shoe polish, tied a dark scarf over my head, and then topped the whole outfit with a dark green canvas apron with pockets that my mother used to keep for gardening. As hot as it was I turned up the collar on the shirt and made sure the long sleeves were rolled down and buttoned. The last thing I wanted to do was get eaten alive by the skeeters and other biting insects that come out at night.

Before heading outside I took another look at my list of things to do. I saw I had two water barrels that I needed to refill. That would mean several trips to the swamp's edge so that I could strain enough water to put into the sand filter in the kitchen because I had emptied the rain barrels last night, hoping that the gray sky had presaged more rain. Unfortunately if there was rain in the clouds, it passed us by.

I also needed to bring up a few items from the barn which would mean climbing through the back window again. I grabbed my allen wrench, work gloves, and the WD40 and stuck them in my left apron pocket. In my right apron pocket I stuck the little LCP that I keep fully loaded and that had been Daddy's along with the three extra magazines for it. The rifle was better at long distances … and each time I think about it I still feel heavy hearted for what I had to do to those men … but the LCP is much smaller, lighter, and is easier for me to carry concealed while I do my night time chores. I picked up the Tupperware container I use as a compost bucket to keep the roaches from finding the refuse, squirted WD40 on the back door hinges, unlocked all of the mechanisms and then carefully moved the blackout curtains and squeezed through as best I could. I locked the deadbolt behind me and headed first to the barn.

After I finally managed to open and then squeeze myself up and over the window sill I went straight to the compost barrels, emptied my container, and turned the barrels a few times. I have run out of planting medium so the compost is going to be essential to us being able to continue gardening with any success. About the only fertilizer that I have left is the big fifty-pound bags of citrus fertilizer that the neighbors gave to us before they left for Georgia. Bending down and being very careful so that no one could see my lighted pen, I made a note that I needed to add fertilizing the trees to my gardening calendar. It is something that Mateo had taken care of and that I had forgotten about needing to do.

After passing everything on my list out of the window it was time to get myself out of there. It was harder to climb out than it was to climb in. I wasn't even as big then as I am now and it was like dragging another person through the window with me, which I guess it is if you think about it. I run around with bruises on my sides and high up on my stomach where I'm constantly trying to fit into places I shouldn't be trying to fit. That night the stump I had rolled over to use as a step stool outside of the barn wobbled and caused me to land badly. My ankle wrenched, gave out, and I came down right on top of a large saw brier vine, the thorns easily penetrating my pants and ramming straight into my knee. It was everything I could do to keep from screaming in pain. God save me if labor is like that.

I detached the vine by yanking it out of my skin and then hobbled to the corner of the barn and did what any upset pregnant woman in my situation would do – I pitched a royal fit, all be it a quiet one, shed a few tears, blew my nose and then got back to work. I'm the type that prefers to pull the bandaid off quickly and get it over with. The quick sharp pain ends quickly while the slow pull seems deliberately torturous.

I gathered the supplies I had pushed out of the window and hobbled back to the house. It took quite a few trips and then I thumped myself in the head for not using the wheel barrow. At least I thought to take the dolly and use it to move the five gallon buckets back up to the house as I filled them from the swamp and poured them through the screen to get the muck out and into clean buckets. These I left on the porch with the supplies that I would bring in later.

My back was killing me and I hadn't even started on the actual gardening yet, such as it was. The okra had bloomed like crazy in the rear flower beds but they didn't look like tall flowers any longer now that the pods were filling out. I gathered those up first thing, careful to avoid the spines. The cowpea vines were also ready to pick. Fortunately my live-catch cages and chicken wire had discouraged whatever had been getting into the stuff that I couldn't grow in containers and bring in at night and I was able to get nearly a half bushel of peas that I had let dry on the vine.

Then it was on to my other edible landscaping in the rest of the yard. We aren't doing too badly if I do say so myself, at least when it comes to fruit. But that is only because I started the project well in advance of ever needing it and have some experience at it. I imagine people who just now started learning to garden have a huge learning curve to get through. Of course it would be different if Mateo was here as his appetites are as big as his personality but with it only being Nydia and I we can live on a more meat restricted diet with no consequences as long as I make sure and get protein from other sources.

There was a little bit of everything in the basket by the time I was through gathering what was ripe: two large pomegranates, a hand full of prickly pears, some lemons and Persian limes, the first fig of the season, nearly four cups of Surinam cherries, a few guava that I added to the ones already drying so they could be ground into paste, and a small pineapple that had somehow escaped whatever critter had been using my plant beds as a buffet.

The good harvest put me in a better mood and I was able to ignore the throbbing of my knee as I headed to the larger trees … where I met the enemy. Blasted raccoons. A mother and her kits had taken up residence in the mango tree and I don't know who was more scared me or them. I squealed and yelped as I tried to step back only to have my ankle complain badly.

I was about to cry again when I all but stopped breathing. "Hush up. You want to lose 'em? Stand still and I'll catch 'em. I have dibs on the female but I'll split the kits with you. They'll fatten up nicely and feeding them will get the wild taste out of the flesh."

From over the fence and out of the bushes I saw a long pole that had a noose on the end of it slowly reach up into the tree. Quick as lightening they had the mother raccoon and were pulling her out of the tree and into a cage. A skinny and nimble man suddenly hopped off the top of the fence where he must have been sitting still as a panther for me not to have seen him and quick as you please he'd scooped up the four kits with what looked like a dog catcher's net. It was the "crazy" couple from across the road.

The man silently offered me two of the kits but, gripping the LCP in my pocket I said, "Oh, I couldn't do that. You did all of the work and caught them, they should be yours. You did call dibs."

The female half of the couple came to the fence bars as her husband climbed back over and spoke quietly. "That's mighty neighborly. You could have said since they were on your land they belonged to you. But really … we've been trying to catch her for near a week now and have chased her up and down the block. We weren't going to trespass but after a week you hate to give up the work you put into the chase."

Never having experienced dealing with someone that potentially deranged I was careful in my replies. "I imagine you wouldn't. How have other people in the neighborhood been handling it?"

The man just snorted and grunted as he tied the kits in a poke sack. His wife was obviously the talker of the pair. "Ain't too many left and those that is are more foolish than even the mister and I had given them credit for being. A few of them have done a little salvaging here and there but mostly they be sitting around waiting for someone to come rescue them. Ain't gonna happen. My bones tell me trouble is brewing. And speaking of brewing, you ain't far from popping are you? This ain't your first is it?"

"Um, yes."

"Oh. Well. It ain't gonna be pretty but you better get it through your head that you're gonna have it at home and probably on your lonesome since they took your man off. Unless you done took up with some of them swampers."

"No. Absolutely … uh …"

She gave a cackle, "Aw, I was just funning with you. I've been watching you since you came to take care of your man's house and then stayed when the little girl got handed to him. I knew you wasn't like what some of the old cows around here said you was. And you ain't got a half bad head on your shoulders either. Done better than we expected that's for sure. Well, it was nice talking with you but we don't have time for company much and need to be about our business."

The man tipped his hat and they both faded into the night leaving me flabbergasted and speechless. They were worse than Greg and that was saying something. Of course all three of them have disappeared now but … there I go again, getting ahead of myself.

I did notice that any branches that hung outside of our property line had been completely stripped of fruit and that included the mango tree as well as the Asian pears, the Governor's Plum thicket, and my papayas. I decided that it would be useless to say anything but I was going to have to be more vigilant about what was "mine." Call me the one that is crazy but so long as they stayed out of the yard and Nydia and I weren't starving I decided I could afford to be generous this time but not from here on out.

I carried on weeding and tending the best I could and thought about the project I was planning and how necessary it was going to be. The electricity hadn't been on in a while and I was using the solar power to the water pump as sparingly as I could. The quieter the neighborhood became the louder the pump was going to sound when I kicked it on. But as worrisome as the water situation was that wasn't the main thing I was concerned about at that moment.

Preserving the harvest; that was the title of one of my favorite books. I loved the picture on the cover of the copy that my mother had bought for me the Christmas I was thirteen. But I wouldn't be using any of those recipes for a while. I still had five five-gallon buckets of white sugar in the garage plus the stuff in mylar bags out in the barn inside metal barrels but that wouldn't last long if I had to can all of the fruit. And I couldn't can the fruit if I didn't have a stove to can on. With the electric off I was down to using the propane camp stove and if I had to use my propane supply to can everything with that would run out before I was through as well. Even my dehydrators were electric. However, I had run across a design in one of my dad's old books of how to build a dehydrator right into a sunny window and I decided that was exactly what was needed and I'd be building two to start with. One would go into the spare bedroom beside the hidden bonus room and a smaller, removable one would be built for the bonus room window.

The reason why I picked those two windows was because they had that film on them that let you see out but no one else see in. Mateo had installed it trying to keep the upstairs rooms from getting so hot but it never really worked. It gave privacy and a little UV protection but that was it, the heat just kept on rolling in since the windows were sunny more often than not. Even if it took longer to dry a tray of fruit or veggies it was still better than anything else I had. My concern wasn't that it wouldn't work but that I would be drawing bugs into the house. I addressed that concern by keeping everything scrupulously clean, leaving out cups of borax as bug bait, and using screens from a couple of the downstairs windows, protected by the storm shutters, to box everything in with. I also used sticky traps to catch what resisted my other efforts.

I tramped up the stairs that night beyond exhausted but with a plan firmly in place. I said my prayers and I don't even think I dreamed of how things used to be while I slept. The next day started out the same as usual but the ending of that day was another type of beginning.

It took me most of the day to make the window dehydrators and they wouldn't pass the test for Better Homes & Gardens but I was … and am … rather proud of them. The one in the guest bedroom was first and after I slid the trays of sliced fruit in place the room slowly filled with the almost overpowering smell of a tropical fruit salad. I realized that I had to add a layer of cheesecloth under the last tray to catch all of the dripping juice or I was going to have a horrible mess. I also wound up having to hang peppermint from my herb garden to keep the ants at bay. It gives the room an odd minty-juicy smell that I haven't decided whether I like or not.

My plan for the night was very light. I was sore and tired and the baby was being a pistol and kicked me in the bladder so hard once that I had to run for the bathroom or embarrass myself. I nearly didn't make it in time because I was limping on the ankle, now swollen since I'd been on it more than off it when it should have been the other way around. My list included checking for any ripe fruit or veggies that needed to be harvested and to run some more buckets of water through the sand filter.

Nydia was so happy to hear that it was going to be a short night that she went to sleep before I'd finished tucking her in. Shaking my head I went about my business. The harvesting was first and went quickly since I'd taken anything close to being ripe the night before. I only caught two caterpillars and they were on vines that had already given all they had to give.

I was in the middle of bringing up the second bucket of water when I vaguely heard thunder in the distance. I took a second to smile and thank God for the coming rain … trying to show a little confidence even though in my heart I knew that it was just as possible for any storm to bypass us yet again. However my confidence grew as the thunder grew closer.

But then as I was pouring the last bucket through the screen to strain out the big particles I realized that the "thunder" had the oddest quality to it. Then there was a screaming overhead and I looked up to see what I recognized as a squadron of fighter jets flying low and directly overhead streaking in the direction of MacDill. I'd seen this before but not the planes so low. The house occasionally fell into the training flight path of whatever was going on at the air force base.

Then I heard a deeper rumble giving me a sense that whatever was making the noise was going slower than the planes that had just flown over my head. However, it seemed to come from much higher in the sky. I stepped off the porch even further and tried to see what was making the noise. Then a whistling noise and …

The explosion was so loud that I felt it before the actual shock wave reached me. I curled into a ball on instinct and then realized what I was doing and ran inside to Nydia. The explosions continued though they seemed to be occurring further away.

Nydia was screaming by the time I got to her. "Nonny! Nonny! Nonny! Nonny!" She was barely breathing between syllables. I grabbed her and down we went to the only place I could think of to retreat to, the pantry closet in the center of the house. I knew it wasn't really safe and could in fact be a death trap all too easily. Nydia was so hysterical that I gave her some allergy medicine that knocked her out. I can't really remember what I thought about during that time. I held Nydia and my brain seemed to freeze in the off position. I know I prayed but what I said in those prayers is completely lost to me.

The bombs fell off and on for over almost three hours. They seemed to come in waves. About what turned out to mid-way through there was a truly horrific explosion that felt like it was going to bring the house down on top of us.

It had been over an hour since the last explosion and I knew I needed to find out what had happened. The first thing I realized was that I was going to need a secondary exit out of the pantry because I was so shaky climbing out that I nearly fell twice. But climb out I did, leaving Nydia still in her drugged sleep. The house was dark upstairs except in the guest room where the morning sun filtered through the dehydrator box; the blackout curtains that I had laid across it had fallen to the floor and the fan in the room was hanging by its wires. I couldn't fix it right then so I simply took it down and capped off the wires in case of an unexpected power surge. I tucked the LCP in my pocket and vowed that it would become my constant companion from that point forward. I'd finally learned my lesson that sometimes things happen just too fast to give you the time to go looking for protection.

Downstairs the damage was worse. The block glass window of the master bathroom had a couple of blocks that were damaged on the outside but not all the way through. The ceramic tiles on the inside of the shower on that wall had also come loose from the green board underneath. One of the master bedroom windows was also shattered and glass crunched under my feet. This was despite the metal storm shutter still in place. My best guess is that the percussion must have bowed the shutter just enough that it touched the window and the vibration went through breaking the glass.

Pictures had fallen off the wall in several places and the family room smelled strongly of soot and a fine dusting of it layered anything that was close to the fireplace. Again, there doesn't appear to have been any structural damage to the chimney, it was just the percussion knocked stuff in the flue down causing the mess. The LCP came out of my pocket and stayed in my hand.

Stepping outside I smelled smoke and something that burnt the hair inside my nose and everything looked smoggy. There was moss, dirt, and small twigs all over the screen that surrounds the pool and lanai. The screened door was more difficult to open than it should have been, like it had shifted in its frame. I still haven't been able to fix that. Whatever shifted it was so small that it escapes my eye and my ability to fix it.

The backyard wasn't too bad but there was a tree down behind the barn, one that Mateo had meant to cut down because it had been dead long enough that its root system had started to decay, making it a prime material for a high wind to knock over. The explosions had done what the last tropical storm had not. It blocked the rear sliding door but it's been a low priority for me to deal with.

A crunch of small limbs had me turning around fast enough to feel bile climbing up my throat. The man from across the street was there but his hands were empty, palms up, and held away from his body.

For the first time I heard his gravel laden voice. "Good." He nodded his head in approval. "Learning to be smart." Then he pointed to the acerola bush, heavy with berries that had ripened in the night. "My wife," he said then swallowed like it was difficult to talk. "Lost some blood. Needs some sweet. Them bushes, good for Vitamin C."

I finally noticed that there was a dark stain on his shirt. "Oh. Oh! Of … of course. Does she need …" I asked and took a step forward.

He stepped away from me and looked like he was going to run so I stopped. When I stopped he stopped but he still had the look of a buck thinking about running off into the thicket.

"No. Don't owe no one. I'll pay …"

"No. You … um … you cleaned the raccoons out of the mango tree for me. Let's call it even at that."

He gave me a look but seemed to relax. Then he nodded his head. But it wasn't until I backed up that he came forward and bent down at the bush and pulled a couple of cupfuls off and put them in his cap.

I wasn't going to leave him free access to the back of the house but I wasn't sure how to strike up a conversation with the man either. He was the one that spoke next however.

"Saw this on the Ho Chi Minh. Rolling thunder."

After a moment trying to think where I'd heard that phrase before I asked, "Carpet bombing? Are you saying that was what happened last night?"

He nodded. "Demoralization of the enemy. Damages infrastructure. Softens 'em up. Used US41 as an aerial map. Somebody don't like us none. Radio says MacDill got hit by bombers that came out of Mexico some place."

I was still processing the information when with effort he stood up and turned to leave. He stopped nodded his head and then said, "Got a tree across your drive. Wires down all over but they ain't hot. Stay quiet and out of the way as much as you can. Don't go night creeping either. Looks like our boys took down at least one bomber. Likely to have some troop movement around here soon. Stay away from them boys. Men in war time … they ain't gonna be in the mood to be gentleman."

He limped off at a ground eating pace, staying in the lee of the bushes and trees as much as possible.

I gave it a minute and then cautiously followed him around to see what the front yard held. There indeed a tree across the driveway, but it was outside the gate, not inside. A tall old oak, weathered and beaten by over a hundred hurricane seasons, had had the top blown out of it by … by some type of metal … thing … landing on it. I stood there trying to figure out what it was when the man turned one last time, pointed at the mess, and said, "Part of a fuselage. Xian H-6K."

Fuselage I understood but it wasn't until much later, after overhearing some of the personnel from MacDill, that I realized Xian H-6K was a type of aircraft, specifically a Chinese bomber. That ripped it. The Chinese had now officially committed acts of aggression against the US, or they had sold an aircraft to a country which had.

I took the neighbor's advice and played least in sight. That was unlike most everyone else in the area who headed to the highway to try and waylay the military in search of answers … and apparently food, fuel, and medical attention as well. No aid was given and everyone returned empty handed and disgruntled. What did they expect? This wasn't the air show, this was war. The last thing I wanted to do was get in the way of the military personnel doing their job and sure as heck didn't want to draw the attention of men two and three times my size walking around with automatic weapons.

I went in and checked on Nydia off and on between putting my container garden out in the sun until she finally awoke. She was fine until she remembered what had happened in the night and then it took me physically picking her up and taking her outside before she began to calm down and believe me that everything was over with … for now. We picked up fruit that had been knocked down, small branches, raked up leaves … it all went into rolling trash cans, the contents of which I would transfer to the compost barrels in the barn as soon as it was safe to do so.

Nydia refused to leave my side even if it meant traipsing back and forth in the heat and humidity. She was literally gripping my apron strings like I was going to get away from her or something. Once or twice a small patrol of military personnel drove down the road but I didn't do anything to draw their attention. The first time it happened I even caught myself crouching down in the bushes and staying perfectly still like an animal that was trying to hide her young. The third time I must have done something that caught their notice because a young man waved. I caught Nydia waving back which made me decide it was time to turn our attention to the backyard.

After a quick snack that passed for breakfast and an early lunch we carried buckets of water until my arms felt like they were going to fall off. I worried that the swamp water would be contaminated sooner or later and I wanted to be as prepared as possible. Since there was so much noise out at the road as crews came in to clear out downed trees to get to the debris of the plane that I found out later had disintegrated in mid-air I decided to risk running the well pump. I panicked for a moment when it wouldn't kick on but it was only the contactors where some ants had gotten up in them. A quick brush with an emery board cleaned them right up and the circuit could be made again. I filled every empty container in the house, the water bobs that had been empty for weeks and all of the extra barrels as well.

I turned the well off after I had refilled the pool (which is our bath water primarily now that I am beginning to run low of the floating chlorinators) and disconnected the solar panels and rolled them back to the house. We'd been unmolested the whole time we were in the backyard and I was beginning to feel calmer and more secure. I had just finished using a limb lopper and a handsaw to take off all the brush that I could from a particularly large limb that had blown in from a large oak in the neighbor's yard. I was down to the main branch and was trying to roll it so I could use the ax to cut it up for firewood. A crunch on leaves and small twigs was the only warning I got.

"Ma'am wait, let me do … whoa, you're really big!"

I turned sharply trying to grab for the ax at the same time while pulling Nydia behind me. She gave a loud squeak and came so willingly she nearly took us both to the ground. The owner of the voice jumped nearly as much as I did when I picked up the ax and he took two good sized steps backwards. Standing there trying to put his eyes back in his head was a young man that looked barely old enough to need to shave more than a couple of times a month. I started backing towards the house when he said, "Uh, wait, it's … it's OK. Totally. Uh. Let me get Sgt. Tag. She'll know what to do."

Then an amused female voice coming around the side of the house said, "Decker, what have I said about using my name in vain after you've gone off by yourself?"

The young man named Decker jumped even worse than he had when I'd picked up the ax and in a voice that cracked a couple of octaves before it settled down he said, "But Sarge, I'm scaring her … and the little girl too. I just wanted …"

"Yes Decker, you're one bad dude and all the girlies run screaming," she responded with amused resignation. "If you wouldn't insist on trying to play Prince Charming every time I turn around you wouldn't have these problems." She laughed again as the young man turned painfully red in embarrassment. Then in a voice even my dad would have envied she called out, "Traina! Fontaine! Back here!" When the two men in question came … and at a run … she continued, " Help Decker deal with that and then get back to the one by the gate." Turning to me she asked, "Ma'am, are you in need of a medic?"

Rather blown away by this woman I still managed to say, "No thank you. We're fine."

"You're sure? Capt. Masters is eager for something to do."

Not quite sure what to make of the offer I told her, "The people down the road could probably use his attention."

In a voice heavy with sarcasm she replied, "Oh, he's spent the morning down there. What's wrong with them is beyond even the Captain's ability to fix."

Obviously Sgt. "Tag" had a low opinion of the people from the subdivision and wasn't afraid to show it. The limb was dealt with in minutes once the men had started the chainsaws they were carrying. After the noise was over with and the wood stacked, all three men went back to the front giving me a polite tip of their heads as they passed.

"That tree top is in the way of the crane that will be brought in shortly. After the wood is cleared the big equipment will come in. We'll try not to damage your gate but there are no guarantees."

I nodded my head in understanding.

"Look, you don't have to answer. This isn't an interrogation but … have you got someone? Family? Friend?" she asked pointing to my belly. "We know the FVB has already been through here."

Unwillingly I answered, "We'll be OK."

"I'll take that as a no then." When I didn't respond she sighed and continued, "I've been authorized to disseminate some care packages. If you won't take anything for yourself at least let me leave you a few for your little girl. They have c-a-n-d-y in them."

The fact that she spelled "candy" rather than say it out loud surprised me. She must have read it on my face because she barked a laugh and said, "Mine might all be teens now but I remember what it was like. I also remember what it was like to be as far along as you look. Independence is one thing, but take my advice and don't turn this down. Help is going to come few and far between times from here on out, especially the kind that doesn't come with strings attached. Take what I'm able to offer and let the Captain have a look at you. It could make a difference."

Long story short I swallowed my pride long enough to be open to an unexpected blessing. In the words of Capt. Masters, "You are in better shape than you should be considering the circumstances." Then I was encouraged to get adequate rest, adequate calories of healthy food, and to give up the heavy lifting. Good advice and well-meant but hard for me to apply in the days that followed.

I hope the soft-hearted Private Decker has someone like Sgt. Tag … I found out Tag is short for Taglione …for the duration of this war, if not he is going to be puppy food before this is all over with. He spent his breaks cutting wood from the blown out tree top into chunks small enough for me to use in the charcoal grill that he thought I used to cook on. No one really razed him about it, at least not within my hearing, but I did see some of the men give each other good natured eye rolls when he'd pop up and run a barrow full back to a pile he started near the back corner of the house. He even built a lean-to out of palm fronds and some old kite string he dug out of the tree branches.

I did accept the care packages and they've been a real bonus to our pantry stock. In addition to the "c-a-n-d-y" there were little squeeze packets of peanut butter and honey, individually wrapped crackers, tuna with packets of mayo and relish, drink packets for water like lemonade and Tang, boxes of raisins, spreadable cheese, and sundry other "energy food" that could be eaten without benefit of cooking. They also gave me a case of shelf stable milk that came in juice box size containers.

I tried to give Sgt. Tag and Pvt. Decker a couple of mangoes but they both said it was against regulations. I guess it is to prevent bribery but it goes against the grain to accept something for nothing. Maybe that is one of the lessons I'm supposed to be learning through all of this, that there are times in life when you must be able to accept the help of strangers.

Mostly I'm just learning how vulnerable I am and it is an uncomfortable realization. There was a repeat of the "carpet bombing" a week after the first one. I had to guess but believe they were using Dale Mabry Hwy the same way they had used US41. It wasn't quite so close as the first one but no less traumatizing since a lot of people had convinced themselves that it could only have been a one off event. It was after the second bombing that the PSAs starting being broadcast on the radio. It was almost three days straight of nothing but lessons on how to survive: how to treat water, how to recognize edible wild plants, how to build a shelter, how to determine whether a building was safe to enter, how to find water when there didn't appear to be any, how to take care of the sick and injured or dying without the benefit of any medical training, etc.

Then on the fourth day the message took an ominous turn that had me sitting down at the kitchen table and just staring at the radio. There was a call for a general evacuation of Tampa. If people had someone they could go to out of the area that was not living in another major metropolitan area they were being encouraged to make the trip. And later that same day came a notice that for people with proof they had family to take them in but no way to get there, a bus service was being set up … seats to be offered by lottery.

I knew right then that someone knew something that I didn't. The only thing I could think of was nuclear or biological threats. For a while I tried to think about how to get to Bea's family but then I realized I could get stuck on the road between here and there and be much worse off than if I tried to make a stand of it here. Certainly the horror of the road wouldn't be made any less so if I was to go into labor with no roof over my head. And I had no idea how much food Bea's family had or even if they were still in a position to take us in.

The decision was gut-wrenching but I decided to stick it out here. Not knowing what the threat was I had to prepare the best way I could. There wasn't much lumber left in the barn and I didn't want to destroy the inside of the house because they wouldn't make our protection any better and would actually make our living environment worse. I said to heck with what people would think and I went salvaging at the two abandoned houses of our neighbors.

Most of the interior doors at both houses were intact and I was lucky they were solid core doors as well from when they had been in fashion a few years back. I popped them out of their hinges as quick as I could. I could strap five doors at a time to the dolly and brought them back to the patio, door knobs and all. Between the two houses I wound up with a few over thirty doors. Not all of them were the same width but that actually proved helpful.

Next I swiped the hot water tanks. That was a trip. I had to wait until it was dark before I could get them home because I couldn't lift them over the fence. Nydia was exhausted but refused to leave me so I decided to call it a night after bringing in my garden containers, filling several five gallon buckets with water, and hauling everything inside.

I got Nydia to sleep pretty quickly that night by telling her I wasn't going outside. But I didn't just go to bed either. I knew that I was going to have to expand our hiding space on the ground floor and there wasn't going to be an easy or pretty way to do it. I hated to do it but after thinking about it all day I was going to have to seal off the master bathroom and walk in closets since they were adjacent to the pantry and then somehow cut a hole through the pantry wall to access the area. Instead of going directly into the bathroom I decided to go through the walk in closet that Nydia used to use as her sleeping area. This would save me from compromising any of the pipes in the bathroom and from having to cut through the concrete board that the walls in there were made of.

I spent most of the rest of the night taking measurements and drawing on the walls in chalk outlining what I wanted to do. I was smart enough to hook the recharger for the power drill into the inverter before collapsing. I fell into a dreamless sleep only to wake up to one of those emergency broadcast signals on the radio. I nearly wet myself trying to get up and grab Nydia before I heard, "Had this been an actual emergency …" I nearly threw the cursed radio out of the window before laying my head down and having a cry.

That day was spent sealing the doors into the bathroom and the walk in closet. Before screwing them into their doorframes I moved all of the doors and the two hot water tanks into the closet as well as a bucket full of self-taping nails. If I hadn't remembered to charge the battery packs I don't know how I would have managed it in the state I was in. It was hot and close as well as dark.

After screwing the two doors shut I took the doorknobs off moved furniture in front of them so that they weren't obvious. The dresser and mirror completely covered one of the doors and a bookcase from the family room was used to cover the other one. Then I went upstairs and climbed down into the pantry and the hard work really started.

During a short break where I fed Nydia I counted off what I had accomplished thus far and determined that making a plan is a whole lot easier than executing it, especially when you are on your own. The only comment of interest came from Nydia. "Will Poppy get mad?" I told her no since we were doing it to be safe and that seemed to be that. Honestly I was surprised at her question because she rarely will bring up the subject of Mateo on her own.

On all the walls except those in the bathroom I hung the doors like paneling. The master bathroom was the only room that had an exterior door and it was also the only place we could get any natural lighting. There was a diamond of block glass that acted as the window, though a few were cracked on the outside after the first bombing run. I did not want to give up that light until we had to so I took the hinges that I had removed from the salvaged doors, several thicknesses of what little plywood I had left, and made a "shutter" that I could lift or lower as the need arose.

I knew that the ceilings were already thicker than normal because Mateo had told me that when he moved into the house he hired someone to take care of the squeaky upstairs. They pulled the old floor up, added solid insulation and then nailed down this thick flooring that added another layer of insulation and added sound proofing. I'm still not sure that is going to be enough so I plan on more salvaging. I pray no one stops me for being a looter.

The salvaged hot water tanks have become more water storage; the spigots at the bottom are perfect for draining the water as needed. I moved every bit of our remaining food into the walk-in closets after treating the area with a little borax after I saw a couple of palmetto bugs, otherwise known as Florida's state bird. Bugs belong outside where things can eat them, not inside where I have to worry about finding them in my bed.

I also stuffed any potential entrances with steel wool Brillo pads. I like mice even less than I like Palmetto bugs and that is saying something.

I still feel claustrophobic when Nydia and I are down there but there is no helping that. Even with the solar garden lights I always feel like I'm inside a mausoleum. Ventilation isn't the best either. I figured out a way to take a floor fan and get it running using the solar charged battery system but if we are forced to hide down there for any length of time I'm not sure how long the batteries will last. When I tried cooking down there … let's just say it isn't an experiment I'm eager to repeat for a while yet.

Nydia loves the space. If it didn't get so hot with the trap door shut she'd stay down there all the time. I guess it makes her feel safe, and honestly that is what I'm doing all of this for. I've made it as homey as I can, bringing in all of the valuables I wouldn't want to lose, books, family pictures and what equipment I don't use daily. Even enlarging our "hidden" space this much, with everything crammed in there it is hard not to bump into something every time I turn around.

The thicker walls also make it harder for me to get a good radio signal so to listen to the radio I have to be upstairs or outside of the hidden space. The space is far from perfect and may not mean anything if we have a dirty bomb fall anywhere near the vicinity but at least I'll be able to stand before God and Mateo and say, "I did the best I could and I never stopped trying."

Day before yesterday I just sat down and had a short melt down. It wasn't all because I was tired either. I'm glad that Nydia was playing happily "in our hole in the ground" and didn't see my reaction to the news that came over the radio.

New York City, more specifically the UN complex, had been targeted with a nuclear bomb. It was then I found out that DC had long been evacuated and our government and top military officials had found their own holes and gotten into them. I can't begin to imagine the loss of life … both the innocent and the not so innocent. There has been no public speech released by the President. The only information from civilian sources was a brief announcement from the President's Press Secretary that the President would be releasing a statement shortly … only shortly never arrived. I don't know what is going on in that arena. It would be nice to know who is steering the ship but it isn't necessary to my survival at the moment.

I haven't seen the people from across the street since the radio announcement of NYC getting hit. I don't know if they are still there but it doesn't feel like it. I've seen other people in the neighborhood leaving by foot, following what is left of the train tracks. The whole city feels like it is dying. I know that is an exaggeration but that is how I feel, the sense that things give me. On the other hand, the fewer people I have to compete with for a limited number of resources the better.

Last night's bombing episode was a terrifying experience in realizing just how quickly I might find myself standing before Judgment. This time when the emergency broad cast signal sounded it was for real. I was outside bringing in the last of the plants when I heard the radio crackle from the kitchen. That burst of sound is unforgettable. I pushed the dolly in front of my, slamming the door shut behind me. Then I dropped the roll down door. I was half way up the stairs when I had to stop and grab my stomach. A stitch in my side told me I was in danger of hurting myself or the baby. I got into the hidden bonus room only to find the trap door open and Nydia trying to drag her bedding down the ladder with her. She had been listening to the radio I had left on the TV tray. She hates the emergency broadcast signal.

"Go Baby!" I told her. "Just get down and out of the way. Nonny is going to drop some stuff down."

"But my dolly! I can't find her!"

"Now Nydia!" I told her sharply.

I turned to see the doll half way between her bed and the trap door. I dropped it down with the rest of her bedding and then tossed down the two back packs (1 large and heavy and one light weight and child-sized) I kept ready to go. There wasn't time for anything else which made me realize if we want to use that space then we need to move what little bit remains out of the upstairs and only have a small basic supply up here.

It was a long night. Sometimes there was no break in the rumbling but I realized too that if the planes continued to fly like that it was unlikely that the nuclear option had been used … this time.

And now I've poured it all out yet again and where has it gotten me? The bombs have still fallen, we're still at war, defending against those who seek to take away our way of life. I still don't understand why things have to be this way and I'm still alone.

Or am I? It is so easy in the good times to have faith; in the bad times it is all too easy to forget your faith and give up. Mateo and I were watching a show on TV – it feels like forever ago – on the cycles within civilizations. You start at "Freedom" but at some point those enjoying freedom forget its cost and begin to take it for granted. When that happens society slips into a state of apathy. This is even encouraged by some because it allows them to do their deeds without questions. Eventually the society finds itself in bondage, sometimes to foreign powers but just as often to their own home grown tyrants and social debauchery.

Sometimes at that point a society is completely destroyed never to exist again. That is a worrisome thought after the last few days. But there can also be a move into a stage called humility, where they become humbled realizing what was lost and the value of it. From that stage society moves into rejuvenation and revival at which point they begin to experience freedom again.

I hope there is a way for the people in this country to avoid the bondage stage but I'm not sure that I believe that change will truly happen without it. This war … and you might as well add famine and disease as well … is touching us all. But I have a feeling things could be worse, will get worse before they get better.

When rumors of UN troops taking over resource centers and trying to block our own military from accessing them begin to make their way into mainstream media broadcasts you have to step back and come to terms that the world as we knew it may never return, at least not in my lifetime. Sometimes I wonder where Mateo is but not too often. It hurts too much. I caught his scent on a shirt in his closet the other day and it took my breath away. I miss him so much but I'm not ready to deal with the fact that he may never return.

All I can do is all I can do and time is proving that there is a lot that I can do. Later today I'll go outside and see if the bombing has left anything viable on the trees to ripen. I know there are a few things from the containers that need to be picked. I'll switch out the trays on the dehydrators, I'll treat water for us to drink and I'll try and get a little washing done. That will have to be enough for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, as soon as I make sure there won't be any troops in the area, I'm going to take Nydia and we are going to see what there is left along our road. I need to have a better idea of what is happening but nine will get you ten I won't like what I find.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Part Six: The Walls We Build**_

Here I lay, staring at these bland, colorless walls. I don't know if they are protecting us or if they are to be our tomb. I'm a little sick but mostly just nerves I think … well, better start at the beginning, or at least the beginning of the latest episode in our lives.

Reading over what I've written, it's not like I have much else to do at the moment, I see that the last page I left off at was after one of the early bombing runs. That night was a long one filled with lots of emotions not the least of which was an almost helpless anger and depression that left me so tired I almost couldn't accomplish the task that I had set for myself the next day. If it hadn't been for Nydia and the baby kicking away inside me I don't know where I would have gone from that point.

But get up and get going I did, though at a much later start than I had intended. After all of the destruction in the night it was almost surreal to step outside and hear the owls screeching and the squirrels barking in complaint. That and the buzz of some wasps I had disturbed in the eaves of the house were all I heard. It was a glorious day if you want to know the truth. The humidity was running about ten percent lower than it normally did and it actually felt a bit cool after being cooped up in the poorly ventilated shelter.

I would have looked ridiculous and completely out of place … like some grotesque Gothic whale … had I worn my black nightwear. Instead I dressed in extremely faded jeans, the knee of which I'd had to recently patch and a threadbare t-shirt advertising Coppertone suntan lotion. Nydia thought the picture of the dog pulling the little girl's bathing suit bottom down was hysterically funny for some reason and I had to remind her several times to not be so loud. I hadn't really wanted to bring her but I didn't see a choice. I was going too far from the house and wouldn't be able to get to her very quickly if something went wrong. One of my worst nightmares up to that point had been leaving the house for whatever reason only to come back and find her gone, taken by some stranger or because she wandered away looking for me despite my order for her to stay locked in the house.

I brought along my large garden cart so I could either pull her if she grew tired or in case we found something worth salvaging for ourselves … assuming we didn't run into anyone who objected. First I went across the street, determined to see if the man and wife were still there.

The house was one of the oldest on the street and sat well back from the road, hidden behind huge azalea bushes, old orange trees from the former groves that covered this area, and a fence full of confederate jasmine choked off by saw briars. I put on my gardening gloves and was finally able to tear out enough of the fast growing and noxious vines that I could push the gate open far enough to get the cart and Nydia in with me.

Remembering there was a possibility of booby traps I was extremely slow and cautious. I made it to the porch and was looking through the windows when I noticed a piece of paper wedged between the wall and one of the decorative shutters. I carefully pulled it out and a key fell into my hand. I read the note and could only shake my head.

To whom it may concern – we ain't coming back here so we hear by give you permisshun to take what you need. But if you are steel here we feel awful sorry for you because you didn't get out in time. It is too late for you. They will send a big bomb to Macdill soon and there isn't anythang anyone can do about it. Live good wile you can because soon you will meet your maker. Signed The Trasks

Well, I had been speaking to Mr. and Mrs. Trask. At least I finally had a name for them though that did nothing to ease the fear the short letter had generated. I kept trying to tell myself they were three shades of crazy but I couldn't quite bring myself to completely discount their warning.

It took me forever to ease into the house but when I did there wasn't exactly the treasure trove I had expected to find. On the other hand I may very well have found the greatest treasure of the day, only time will tell for sure.

The rooms were a maze of hoarded newspapers, magazines and books. I could move around in the rooms, but just barely. The kitchen was enough to gag me and I left that room much faster than I had entered it. Then in a back bedroom I found another type of hoarding. It looked like one or the other of them had a fondness for salvaging but it was the oddest method of storage I could have ever imagined. There were white plastic garbage bags, the kind with the yellow or red plastic string ties at the top, stacked floor to ceiling, nearly filling the entire room. On each bag was written an address in black marker. I recognized all of the street names I saw. Almost afraid to but too curious not to I untied one and peered inside. Linens. I opened another bag from another address. Linens. I opened another. Linens again. I opened the fourth expected linens and instead found more bags. Gently opening these bags I found yarn in one, a couple of rag rugs in another, and the other small bag held two brand new packages of women's hygiene products. I grabbed that stuff and put it in the cart and covered it with the rag rugs. I didn't need it then but I knew I'd need it soon.

The volume of white kitchen garbage bags was overwhelming and I decided to leave it and come back later after I had checked the rest of neighborhood. That's when I caught a glimpse of another, smaller house behind the one I was in. I walked around back and discovered the small house was actually a large workshop. Still being cautious I tried to open the door to find it locked. I looked at the key in my hand and taking a chance found that the lock used the same key as the house.

The workshop was completely different from the house. The house had looked like it belonged on one of those reality shows where the messiest homes were redecorated and tidied up by professional organizers … before the redecorating and tidying up had occurred. The workshop looked like it belonged to someone suffering the opposite problem - a compulsive cleaning disorder. There were tools all over the walls hanging on peg board. Everything was neatly labeled and organized by tool type and size. There were a couple of empty spots as if those particular tools had been taken down and were in use. Where there wasn't pegboard there were drawers and trays, also neatly labeled with their contents. There was an old spice rack that held jars of nails and screws, separated by type and length. As a matter of fact the shop was so neat I had an uncontrollable urge to mess it up just to keep it from being so perfect.

The only clashing note was a big box sitting right in the middle of the floor where it couldn't be missed. Not knowing quite what to make of the out of place box but as curious as a cat to see what was in it I stopped one more time and gave a prayer that I wasn't about to blow us up by falling for some Pandora-like box bomb. Once I got it open I suffered a huge let down. The box was just a case of bags. In disgust I rose to go and then I turned back for another look because something about those bags rang a bell. Then I figured it out, they were sand bags … empty ones but sand bags nonetheless. I grabbed a stack of them to use in case I found salvage that would be easier to move that way.

Then I left the property having accomplished my main goal of seeing if anyone was still living there and finally got back to the road. I thought to myself, "Well that was an hour wasted." Nydia wanted to ride in the cart so I had her hop in and hoped I wouldn't have to run pulling the cart because even though she wasn't all that heavy she certainly added to the amount of strength I had to exert to move it. I had to stop frequently even though it wasn't that far to the other end of the street and even going slow I was wringing wet from sweat and already sore through my back.

The first five houses I stopped to investigate were stripped or ransacked. I stopped looking for food after a few houses as obviously people had been a lot worse off than us but I did find some spices and seasonings. It wasn't much but it was something. I also found a closet full of metal hangers in one house, probably left by someone that got most of their clothes done at the dry cleaners. I didn't know what I was going to use them for but I was determined to not come back empty handed.

The sixth house looked like someone had been living in it in the recent past but how they were living was disgusting. I don't know if it was the property owners or a squatter. No one was living in it at that moment however. I could tell from the … er, evidence … left in a bucket in the bathroom. I made sure Nydia stayed by the front door while I did a quick inspection. Everything was so foul in there I doubt I would have taken anything anyway even if there had been something worth taking.

As I slipped from house to house I began to notice that most of them had doors missing on the inside, some even had cabinet doors missing in the kitchen and bathrooms. I found out why in the back of one of the houses and then started noticing even more evidence. People had started to dismantle bits and pieces of their houses to burn. I don't know if it was leftover from when it had been cooler or a more likely scenario being they were using the small fires to cook over or to boil water over.

I looked at the large oak trees that grew in the neighborhood and saw where many smaller branches and limbs had been taken out, some by sawing but most look like they'd simply been ripped or broken out. There was very little tree debris on the ground. Either someone was still collecting it or there just wasn't any left to fall for a while.

I was about ready to give up when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned too fast and everything went fuzzy as my blood pressure couldn't keep up with me. I sat down rather quickly nearly turning an ankle in the process. It was the one that never quite wanted to heal from where I fell getting in and out of the barn. I was shaking my head trying to clear my vision and groping for the LCP at the same time when a voice said, "Pity you. I know me and my girl have it bad but at least I'm not pregnant."

Standing near the edge of the house I had meant to enter next was a woman and a girl that looked to be three or four years older than Nydia. Still flustered I said, "Well … it just … sort of worked out this way."

"I hear you. Look, we've been all up and down this street three or four times, there really isn't anything left. And personally, I'm throwing in the towel. I've heard that there are pick up locations for refugees and that's where I'm heading. They are supposed to resettle you someplace else with a room and board."

"Yeah? At what price?" I asked curious even though I knew for a fact I would not leave.

"Don't know. Don't care at this point either. If we stay here we'll be killed in the bombing, starve, or possibly worse. The looters haven't been around this way for a while but when things get lean where ever they have moved on to they'll be back just to see if they missed anything … assuming there are any buildings left standing by that point."

I gave a noncommittal "Mmmm."

"We're going. If you're smart you'll get some things together and go out to the highway and follow it until you get directed to a pick up point. They might even take pity on you in your condition and you'll get better treatment."

I started to reply but she was already turning away, pulling a child's toy wagon loaded with what was likely all of their worldly possessions and moving in the general direction of US41. She did throw one last cautionary note over her shoulder. "Be careful if you go the next street over. There are some mean rats in a couple of the houses and the feral cats are even worse. Most of the dogs have been killed and eaten but I heard one last night some place close by. Oh, and some of the houses at the end of the road there aren't safe to enter; the ceilings have come down and they've got black mold growing all over the place inside."

Not that I would have accepted but she never even brought up the idea of traveling together for safety. The only weapon I saw was a wooden bat that had had all sorts of sharp things driven into it so that it looked more like a Medieval mace but then again, I never pulled my hand out of the pocket where it was wrapped around the little LCP. Who knows what she might have had hidden. I never saw the woman and girl again so I hope they made it someplace safe in time.

I didn't just take the woman's word for it and checked the houses all the same. She hadn't been lying. Most of the houses looked like they had been stripped clean. Except I did find things here and there … bobby pins, a ball made of rubber bands, a couple of packets of Sweet-n-low, a coffee can of landscaping spikes, some empty cans I could flatten and use for something eventually, a brand new and unopened tube of Liquid Nails.

The sun was now high in the sky and Nydia was saying that she was hungry. I was simply spent, even more depressed than when I had awoken after my restless sleep. I turned us around to head back home mentally preparing myself for going back to the Trask house and looking through those garbage bags some more and that in turn made me think about the note they had left.

They hadn't said it outright but there had been speculation on the radio of how soon other places beside NYC would be bombed with nuclear weapons. Most people seemed surprised that we hadn't dissolved into complete thermonuclear war involving the whole world. I had to puke after listening to it for a while and then just had to pass it on to Larger Shoulders than mine since I didn't think there was anything I could do about it. Or could I?

It was then I remembered what some of them had been saying about "expedient fallout shelters."

I remembered that term from some of the really old civil defense books that had belonged to my parents and after we had returned to our house, and I had put Nydia down in front of a plate of fresh fruit and veggies I pulled from my container garden, I went looking for those books. I'm not librarian neat when it comes to my books but it usually only takes me a few minutes to find something and this was no exception. I grabbed the books and carried them upstairs so that Nydia could take a nap and give me some peace and quiet to study.

It didn't take me long to see that most of the shelters simply were beyond my ability to build. Some of them required a basement. A lot of them required digging underground and/or cutting and hauling logs. At the very least many of them required some type of ditch or trench and none of that was at my disposal. Briefly disappointed I took another look at one that called an outdoor ridge pole shelter made of logs and dirt. I began to wonder really what made a good fallout shelter and did a little more in-depth reading, completely turning my plans for the day upside down, but I think it was worth it in the long run.

First off there are three main types of radiation emitted from fallout; alpha, beta, and gamma. That seemed simple enough until I began to understand the difference. Though the alpha particles were dangerous if you ingested them or something like that; on the otherhand those emissions were the easiest to protect yourself from because even a piece of paper could block them.

The beta particles were a little trickier. According to the books I read even the worst beta emissions will be blocked by 3 cm of aluminum. Well, I didn't have two and a half inch aluminum sheets, nor could I have carried them even if I had had them. But, I figured by scrounging and salvaging I could come up with enough aluminum panels and doors that I might be able to get some protection and some would be better than nothing. Beta particles could also burn you if not washed or brushed off quickly. You could avoid that by not traveling in the particles.

The worst stuff however was the gamma emissions. They really aren't emissions per se; they are rays and that makes them much stronger than just floating particles. All the books that had anything on fallout in them said that it was the gamma rays that the shelters needed to be designed to protect us from but that dense material like concrete, steel, and dirt could do that.

And that's when I thought about the sand bags. A picture began to form in my head. I knew I could do it, it wouldn't be pretty, but I could definitely do it. It would mean making an awful mess of the house but if … if … I decided it was worth it and suddenly I had a new lease on life, a project, a goal. I felt empowered again because I was doing something proactive and not just reactive. I also rationalized that a bunker would certainly be more protection if the bombs got closer.

I took a quick nap late in the afternoon while Nydia played with some rocks and things that she had collected while we were out. I'd already washed them off and she'd never been one to stick stuff in her mouth so even though they were a little small I wasn't too worried and allowed myself to drift off for a few moments.

I woke up when Nydia touched my arm saying she'd heard something outside. I don't know what it was that she heard because I never saw anything but it was a good time to get up anyway. I fed her and we went through our routine of me tucking her in and her objecting to me working outside. She finally gave in and fell asleep and I changed into my night gear and headed outside, bringing a tube of graphite with me to take care of the squeaky wheel on the garden cart. I didn't think anyone was around but I wasn't taking any chances I didn't have to.

I was back and forth between the Trask place and ours so many times I lost count. First I emptied out the workshop, taking not only the case of sand bags but just about everything else that wasn't nailed down and some that was. While I loaded and unloaded things between trips across the road I gave serious thought to the different layers of my bunker.

First where would the bunker be? That was easy enough; I would convert our hiding area into a fallout shelter. It was hidden as close to the center of the house as I could get it except for the master bathroom. I had already built in the sanitation facilities and the water storage capacity. We also had enough room down there now to get around without having to sit knee-to-knee. I just needed to increase the thickness of the walls. Doing that on the inside of the bunker was out of the question; we would have lost too much space though I did decide to push everything we could up against the walls in there which would give us more floor space and act as more sound proofing if nothing else. It meant I would need to build some shelving but with the stuff from the Trask's workshop it could be done.

Next came the plan for how to thicken the walls of the bunker. I definitely wanted to use the sand bags, but how? And should the sand bags be the only layer or should I go ahead and try to find some aluminum panels?

I had almost given up on the aluminum panel idea and convinced myself that the sand bags would be enough when I ran my shoulder into a post on the Trask house's back porch. It was hard enough to startle me and I kicked out, my toe connecting with … the aluminum pole of their sun awning. I looked up and actually smiled. Maybe finding enough aluminum panels wasn't going to be as hard as I had thought it would. Before I had looked up and realized how many houses on this block had some type of aluminum canopy I had thought I would have to resort to dismantling things like breaker panel doors, HVAC system boxes, AC ducts, sheds, and the like. But with so many carports and covered lanais, well it was going to be easier than I had thought.

The Trask's canopy was the easiest to take down because it was one of those old timey ones that could be dropped to prevent it from being ripped apart during high winds. The side that connected to the house was hinged so all I had to do was take the safety bolt out and then crank the poles down. The rest was easier said than done. I had to figure out how to take the pins out of the hinges and then drop the canopy the rest of the way to the ground. When it finally fell it ripped the last hinge off of the house and made a horrific clang as it came down. Then came the fun of disconnecting each panel from the frame it was attached to.

I had emptied the workshop and gotten the canopy half dismantled when I had to give it up. I was exhausted and the baby had shifted and was laying right on a nerve in my back. I went back to the house, to bed, got up briefly to tend to Nydia, took another cat nap and then got back to work. I did this for five days, often with Nydia helping me during the daylight hours, before I was satisfied with the amount of aluminum and sand bags.

I didn't just pile up the materials; I laid them as I went. It gave me a chance to come in out of the weather which was turning nastier – broiling sun, suffocating humidity, with several tropical thunderstorms on top of it – and it kept me motivated as I saw my plan coming to life. I started with the roof of our shelter. Instead of trying to nail something to the "ceiling" I simply laid it down on the floor above us. I overlapped sections of the aluminum panels and anything else aluminum I happened to run across that was easy to salvage. It wasn't 3cm of aluminum but there was over an inch by the time I had finished. On top of the aluminum I laid the sand bags. I also sandbagged all of the upstairs windows (except for the false dormer window) and then did my best to hold them in place by nailing towing straps around them. The straps were another piece of useful junk I found in the back of a truck in the garage of an abandoned house.

Sandbagging the windows meant giving up my solar dehydrator so I had to rebuild it outside on rollers so that I could bring it in every night. I wouldn't have bothered but I was still convinced that I couldn't afford to waste any food sources. The good news was the kudzu I found two streets over while checking out a pool awning was growing faster than we could have ever depleted it. It wasn't my favorite wild edible but it is a versatile one. Momma even had a book dedicated to kudzu recipes. You can make salads, stewed roots, pickled flowers, jelly, syrup, tea, fried kudzu, quiche, ground kudzu root, casseroles, corn bread, thickening for sauces or apple pie, boiled like turnip greens or spinach, kudzu tofu, cake flour but I didn't have time to try them all and do a lot of experimenting; mostly I simply ate it in with my other salad greens. It filled the hollow spaces and meant I had to worry less about what was coming up in my containers.

After I had finished upstairs I used the same strategy for our shelter walls. I ran out of sandbags three-quarters of the way through so I resorted to using the kitchen garbage bags from inside the Trask house. That meant emptying them to do it which meant carting a bunch of stuff to the house and just dumping it in my former bedroom to keep it out of sight and at least temporarily out of mind. The mess in the house was depressing me but I felt I had no choice. If anyone ever finds us here, they'll think I've run crazy but such is life in these days and times.

The garbage bags were nowhere near as good as the sand bags when it came to stacking them. They also weren't as thick which meant that they tore quite easily no matter how careful I was. To combat this I would tack the bottom of a tarp about six inches up from the bottom of the floor. Then I would lay the first and second row of sand filled garbage bags against the wall. I would then draw up the tarp from the bottom, nailing it in place with roofing nails to form a "pocket" that held the bags in place. I did this all the way up the wall two or three layers of bags at a time.

I know I must be crazy but I hated the way it looked so I used some of the bedspreads I had found in the garbage bags to hide the sand bag walls like giant curtains. That too looked ridiculous but it was better than nothing in my opinion, not that I get to see it now.

To protect the well I disconnected the solar cells and brought them in and then covered the small well house with a tarp and then covered the tarp with a three feet thick dirt mound. After suffering through two wash outs from rain I covered the dirt with blocks of sod and then threw an old canvas painter's cloth over that and held it in place with paving stones I had ripped out of the neighbor's drive way. It stood out for a couple of days until the tall grass stood back up and after that it just reminded me of a very large ant mound.

The tropical storms were making it harder for me to charge the batteries that kept our lights working and it also made it impossible to leave my garden containers outside as much as I had. When it wasn't raining I gathered all of the stuff from the edible landscaping and tried to keep the weeds at bay. The weeds and lawn were winning and I had gotten to the point I just didn't care; I was just that tired. I spent the rainy times moving absolutely everything I could into our bunker and trying to figure out a way to cook in there without suffocating us.

Again using a diagram I had found in a book and several air conditioning filters, the good kind and not the fuzzy blue ones, I built a ventilation system. There was already a couple of AC ducts in the spaces that I had included in the bunker. It was a down and dirty version of what I had seen diagramed but I felt it would work as long as I was careful. The weak point of our bunker was the block glass window in the bathroom. I'd already covered the outside of the house where the bathroom was with sandbags and luckily it was in the back of the house so it wasn't easily seen. On the inside where the drop down shutter had been before I removed it I simply screwed in place several air conditioning drip pans one on top of the other … those pans the AC units sit in to prevent water damage in case they leak … and then covered that with two sheets of the thickest plywood I had been able to salvage. I reset the shutter but had to use a two by four to attach the hinges to so that the shutter would lay flat against the new material. Not perfect but not bad I think.

I was losing weight. I knew it but no matter how much fat I tried to add to my diet I would work the calories off faster than I could ingest them. Someone looking at me would have said that I was "all baby" and the baby in question was riding very, very low. I knew I didn't have much time left. I explained to Nydia the best I could what was going to happen soon but it meant very little to her. All she could understand was that the baby would be here soon.

I went into overdrive. I hauled in three more water heaters for water storage and would have brought in a couple more but there simply wasn't room. I did refill the waterbob in the tub with water from the well and that gave us another 100 gallons which meant we could at least use the wash pan I had put in the shower stall every once in a while without guilt … at least I hoped so.

I took down and reversed our solar security lights so that while the panels were still outside on the back of the house, the wires ran inside the house providing lights to a makeshift greenhouse. I had no idea if that would work but I figured it was worth a try since the bulbs in them were the new fluorescent bulbs required by the Green Codes.

I also took the time to build a homemade fallout meter that I found in some papers that Mateo had copied from a PDF he found on the internet. I saw his tightly scrawled notes in the sidelines suggesting common materials that would match what was called for in the diagram. It is called a Kearney Fallout Meter or KFM and I haven't a clue if the thing really works or not despite the fact that I followed the instructions for building it to the last jot and tittle.

Nydia and I spent as much time outdoors as we did in. Anything that even remotely could be considered food I would collect and try to preserve for storage. I brought all of my herbs in and hung them on strings throughout the whole house. It dispersed the musty odor that had begun to creep into every corner; I think it was primarily because of the sand bags. As I noticed new plants being ready to harvest I felt blessed that I could add some new items to our diet. My little fig trees were producing a bumper crop, the more I picked the more that ripened. The pumpkins and winter squash that I had all but given up on gave me a small crop and I only lost two to some kind of varmint before I figured out how to cage them off with narrow rabbit wire cages on spikes that were run into the ground.

I set an animal trap out there thinking it was something coming up out of the swamp like a raccoon or a rat but when I went out the next day I found it to be a good sized wild rabbit. I hid it quickly from Nydia so she wouldn't refuse to eat "Thumper" and dinner that night included the first fresh meat that we'd had in months. I kicked myself for having not tried this before and for several mornings running I found something highly irritated at being caught to make a pot of stew with. It felt like I had plugged a hole and both Nydia and I ate like a couple of pigs while it lasted.

My bush beans were beginning their die-and-dry phase and rather than worry that they would mildew because of how wet the weather had turned I pulled whole plants up out of the pots they had been growing in and hung them upside down by their roots on clothes line that I strung in the garage. In that oven like atmosphere it didn't take them long to dry out and I pulled the pods off and threw them in onion bags and hung them up in our shelter.

My limes, lemons and limons I pulled and spent a whole night preserving flesh, juice, and peel over a hot fire on the outdoor grill. For some reason my canning pears hadn't done very well, probably from the constant shock of the bombing in the area plus the funky weather we'd been having but I did manage to get a few before they rotted from their blossom end. In fact a lot of the domestic fruit was doing poorly while the wild or indigenous varieties did much better. The problem was the domestic fruits were better for preserving and the wild fruit was much better for eating fresh.

My grapes only produced a few small bunches. I fed most of them to Nydia in her meals since I already had a lot of raisins in our food storage. The handful of fresh grapes that I ate nearly crossed my eyes with their tartness. The pineapples that came up were smaller than in years past but beggars can't be choosers. The guava tree was nothing but a runt to begin with so the lone fruit off of it wasn't much of a surprise but I was disappointed that my carambola tree hadn't done better; I love star fruit and had gotten a bumper crops in the past.

It went on like that … soursops and governor's plums did well, pomegranate bushes only so-so … my pitomba and acerola wouldn't stop producing while the papaya and mango trees just wouldn't cooperate after their first big push … I almost had to run to keep up with how fast the kudzu was growing but nearly missed the one lone small bunch of green grapes that hid amongst the vines on the arbor … the ratty wild blackberries gave me gallon after gallon of berries while my blueberry shrubs were pretty and green but fruitless.

One late afternoon, while rain pelted the windows, I sat down and figured it all out. I could stop right there and between what we had in food storage and the fresh stuff I had been bringing in I thought that Nydia and I could last a good 18 months, longer if we were able to survive on whole grains and dried beans alone. We might not be our healthiest at the end of that time period but it could be done so long as I could breast feed the baby. But on the other hand that would also be close to suicidal because there was no guarantee that I could restock before everything was used up; things might not be back to normal – I already doubted they would be in my lifetime – a garden could fail or any number of other problems. So even though I was dead dog tired I traipsed out back and Nydia and I began to drag the container garden in one more time while what little light came through the still very cloudy sky faded to nothing. Not even the moon did more but occasionally peep out for a few seconds here and there.

We had brought the last pot in when Nydia took it into her head that she wanted to play. It was definitely too dark to play safely and I wanted her to come inside and get ready for bed … we'd started sleeping in the shelter full time despite how hot and stuffy it could get. She on the other hand had something completely different in mind. She knew I wasn't exactly light on my feet and was teasing me by playing her version of tag-your-it and squealing in delight when I would miss her. She finally made the mistake of getting too close, or I got lucky, and I grabbed her around the middle and held tight. I opened my mouth to let her have it when it was like an enormous spotlight had been focused on the front of the house. The house created a gigantic shadow that we stood in the middle of but we still had to cover our eyes.

Nydia screamed in fright and on instinct I covered her eyes with my hand dropped to the ground with her under me. I smelled something that reminded me of scorched boiled greens and knew that it was no spotlight. I counted off ten seconds then cracked my eyes a little only to find that the night seemed even darker than it had before.

I got to my feet and still protecting Nydia and my stomach the best I could we got to the house doing a fair imitation of a couple of deformed crabs. Entering our shelter from above was no longer optimal after I laid the aluminum panels and sandbags on the floor upstairs so I had built a new entry way. I wrenched the stove away from the wall revealing a crawl space that I really hated.

Trying to deal with a nearly frozen Nydia I told her in a jovial voice, "Come on Alice, in the rabbit hole you go." I gave her a gentle push to start her and as soon as I saw that she was crawling to the living space I told her, "Get your dolly and Nonny will be there in just a moment love."

I stood up and there was a terrible wrenching pain across my back. I thought I had pulled a muscle at some point but I couldn't let it stop me. I dropped the security doors back down over the French door and then slid a wooden box I had built in front of the glass. I took straps and strung them through eye bolts crisscrossing them as I went. When I was finished the wooden box looked like an alien shoe with odd laces. It was the best I could come up with to try and secure the last exterior opening on the house.

I kept waiting for a blast or shock wave but when it finally came it merely buffeted the house a little like a minor hurricane wind, not at all like what I was expecting. I looked around one last time, beginning to shake, and realized there was nothing more that I could do. I backed into the "rabbit hole" and manhandled the stove back in place. As I backed down the narrow entrance I realized there was light coming from some place behind me and when I was able to sit up I saw that Nydia had been aiming her little flashlight into the tunnel trying to guide me in.

I grabbed her and kissed her and we held each other for several minutes. The shock was wearing off and Nydia started to cry and then it started getting worse. I had planned for this as well. I washed her face and finally coaxed her to drink a small glass of juice. Hidden in the juice was some cold medicine that never failed to make her groggy. I rocked her and made up a story of some silly princess searching for a prince that could bake the perfect cookie. She grew calmer and eventually sleepy. She was fully asleep in twenty minutes. I undressed her and put her in her bed but it was no easy task; my back shrieked again in protest.

I didn't know what else to do. Everything was clean and in its place. It would be hours before I dared considered preparing a meal. Nydia, for her own good, was asleep so I didn't have her as a distraction. I finally sat at our makeshift table and put my heads in my hands and simply started praying. I don't know how long it was before I realized that every time my back would sing out my stomach would tense and it was some time past that that I allowed myself to accept the reality that I was really and truly in labor.

I don't know whether it was the shock of the event or whether it was coincidental to something that was bound to happen anyway but rather than be hysterical at the prospects of what I was about to endure a strange calmness settled over me. I got the stop watch out of my labor items and was gratified to find that contrary to my fears generated by some of the things I had read, an EMP had not stopped it from working. Of course the fact that I had stored the few electronic items that I was most worried about inside an old microwave oven could have helped as well. I had read it in some fiction book when I was growing up and it had always stuck in my head. Hopefully I'll live to find out whether I was smart or lucky.

With the stop watch I could tell that my contractions were nowhere near regular. The first two I timed were only three minutes apart, then it jumped to fifteen minutes then to five then to eight then back down to four. I went nearly three hours of this before they settled in at five minutes apart and holding. When I had first started timing them I just sat at the table but my stomach would push against the table during a contraction and it felt like my pelvis was splitting so I thought to lay down to see if that helped. That actually made it worse because my back began to ache and I got nauseous. I finally got up and simply started pacing the shelter as quietly as I could. Every once in a while a good strong contraction would have me leaning on something trying to get the pressure to leave my back alone.

If any male ever reads this journal I'm sure this next part may turn him a little green and if it does just too bad. It takes two to make a baby, it should take two to have one. But Mateo isn't here so I can only hope that I'm turning someone a little green down the road in mild retribution for having to go through this all by myself.

The books had said to not become a slave to the stop watch, stay hydrated and to try and relax. Well personally during the middle of a couple of those contractions I could have gleefully slapped whoever wrote the silly books. For every glass of water I drank I had to go to the bathroom three times and relaxing was completely out of the question. I wasn't hysterical I was just … well when you are worried that your world is about to end in a thermonuclear conflagration it isn't exactly easy to relax.

One time I didn't make it to the bathroom before my legs were covered in a mucusy wetness. I noted the date and time that my water broke in a medical chart I had started to keep track of things in case it got so bad I lost my place in what was supposed to come next. Let me tell you after that it felt like the baby was using a sledge hammer on my lower parts during every contraction. I got nauseous all over again and spent some time having contractions while I worshipped at the porcelain throne.

I fell into a rhythm – walk, trying to think of good things and good times, that creeping feeling when the contraction starts, then hold on and try and breath through sensation that peeks to pain and then gradually releases, catch my breath and then start walking again. That lasted until the contractions started getting closer to two minutes apart and that's when it felt like I was being turned inside out with every contraction.

I guess that is what they called the "transition phase." That is an understatement designed to fool the unwary. I would have given just about anything to have another adult with me during that time. It hurt so bad I was scared. I crawled into the bathroom dragging the bag of stuff that Mateo and I had started gathering back … too long ago. My emotions are still right at the surface and its better if I don't think about it too much.

I don't know how long transition lasted; it could have been minutes, it could have been hours. I couldn't tell, it was dark and I kept losing track of things as I went somewhere else to try and concentrate around the pain.

Up to that point I'd been doing pretty good about being quiet. The last thing I needed was a frightened child to deal with. But surprisingly that isn't what I got.

I came back to myself after a particularly bad contraction, it felt like it lasted a lifetime, to feel a damp wash rag being put on my forehead.

"Nydia, please … gooooo … oooo … go back to bed darling. Nonny … Nonny is … hmmmmmm … is just not feeling so … ooooooo."

"Is it the baby Nonny? Is the baby trying to come out of your tummy?" Maybe she had internalized some of the things I had explained to her.

Breathing deeply as I could, already feeling another contraction building I whimpered, "Please Nydia, go lay back down for …. ooooo …." I didn't get to finish what I was saying before I was carried off again by the pain.

I picked that moment to start crying, though thank goodness I wasn't sobbing very hard. "Poor Nonny. Poor Nonny. That baby is bad."

I tried to tell her it wasn't the baby it was that I'd never had a baby before and wasn't sure whether I was doing it right. Where on earth that came from I don't know but it seemed to make sense to her childish mind. "Oh … like riding a bike?"

That did get a snort of laughter from me but that was probably the last coherent thing I did for a while. I was starting to feel the urge to push which meant I needed to get dressed … or undressed as the case was … to facilitate things. I also crawled into the shower stall. Nydia didn't understand this and I wasn't about to explain about the blood and fluid even had I had the breath to do it.

I finally wound up on my hands and knees rocking through the worst of it. It felt like my insides were bulging out where they had no business bulging out from. Suddenly I needed to sit up and I did so with surprisingly little effort. This baby wanted out and it was giving me the wherewithal to do it.

No man is every going to be able to understand the sensation but it is something like trying to blow a watermelon out of a drinking straw. I'd read all the warnings about breathing through the contractions so that you won't tear your perineum. I had some grotesque picture in my mind of being ripped open so no matter how badly I wanted to push hard every other contraction I tried to not give in. The stinging finally caused me to shriek.

"Nonny!"

But I couldn't calm her down. I'd felt the baby's head leave my body. I did what the book said and tried to feel if the cord was around the neck but all I felt was slippery baby and then the next contraction hit me and it felt like Godzilla was trying to crawl out of my body. After that it went very quickly. So quickly I nearly didn't catch him before he hit the floor.

I slid back against the wall of the shower ultimately wind up laying flat on my back with the baby on my stomach. I scrabbled around in the bag and found the sucker thing and got all of the gunk out of his nose and mouth and let me tell you, that was something he did not in the least appreciate. I would have given anything to just lay there but I couldn't because it wasn't over yet.

I had to clamp the umbilical cord in two places and then cut it. By then I was feeling the urge to push again but it was a different kind of push. This was where the placenta came out. I haven't run a fever or bled to excess so I'm going to assume it all came out and nothing has been left inside me to become septic.

I was in the middle of trying to take care of myself when the cheeky little devil latched on for the first time. Babies without teeth should not bite but it's been a real trip to convince him that he should have better manners than what he does.

Nydia was just as in shock as I was but she still went and got my clothes and some of my women's things while I cleaned up myself, the baby, and the shower stall. The shower stall was the least of my worries so all I did was give it a rinse while I cleaned myself up and told Nydia to stay out of it until I could do a better job. I did have the presence of mind to pour a little vinegar down the drain but that was the extent of what I could do at that point. I bagged and tied the placenta and then sealed it in a bucket I'd found the presence of mine to station near while I was stocking the shelter.

I was sore and had gone from a feeling of unbelievable euphoria to one of complete exhaustion. I'd lost all track of time and there was no way for me to tell whether it was day or night. I had no idea what was going on outside but I didn't smell smoke – all I really smelled was my own lack of deodorant. For all I knew the house could have fallen on top of us. I still don't know for sure but it would seem that I would have noticed a problem with the ceiling if it had.

I pointed Nydia in the direction of the tote that held some food that she could get into … mostly leftovers from the care-packages and some stale packages of crackers and pretzels that I'd been hiding for a long time for just this eventuality. I told her she could count out three items and use one of the plastic spoons and napkin packages in there as well, and that she was to put her trash in the ziploc bag in the tote when she was finished and to wipe her hands with the baby wipes. After that she could open the present I had for her in there.

"Present?!"

"Yes. You are a big sister now and I thought it would be … be … goodness I'm sorry for yawning in your face Sweetie but Nonny is very, very tired. Play with your present and let Nonny rest for a little while. OK? And don't go out … don't …" Looking at me with huge eyes she shook her head emphatically and said she would stay right here.

After she assured herself that all was well she got her snacks and I watched her through slitted eyes until she finished and woke up briefly at her squeal of delight to find a box of odds and ends that I had actually been saving for her good behavior treasure box, something we used to do before everything fell apart. Crayons, a small coloring book, a small stuffed animal, a new outfit and bottle for her dolly, a couple of packages of sugarless safety pops, and a few other little odds and ends kept her enthralled and let me get my first real sleep in a while.

"Nonny … Nonny … he's snorting like a pig. I think he's hungry."

My eyes popped open and indeed it did sound like I had a piglet rooting around in the bed with me. That was the start of our new routine. Nydia would watch fascinated while the baby nursed and then I would pay some attention to her and then I would move around and try to keep some semblance of cleanliness and order in our shelter.

Sanitation has been my primary challenge. Cleaning the shower stall required more water than I had anticipated but it was still better than had I been forced to deal with lot of bloody bedding. And macho man's diapers are no treat either. It has been almost three weeks and I'm nearly out of the disposable ones … and the space to deal with the used ones.

Lack of sunlight is beginning to affect us, Nydia worse than me. I give her the same liquid vitamins that I horded for the baby but it just isn't as good as the real thing. I just don't know what to do.

See, I'm in a quandry. I can't positively say that it is safe to go out or not. The KFM … the radiation meter … has never come off of zero. I don't understand it. There was the bright flash of light from the south. That's the right direction for MacDill. Then there was … well, I guess it was anyway … the concussion or percussion … well, it was the blast wave from whatever it was. It stirred things up pretty good but nothing like I expected it to. The trees whipped and sawed, the wind was fierce, but no buildings were knocked down, it didn't even rip off any of our shingles as far as I could tell. I didn't hear any windows breaking. The house didn't creak and grown like it was thinking about falling over. Nothing makes sense.

But I also have a problem. I can't get any radio reception. I don't know if that means that there are no signals to receive or if it is because of all of the dirt and stuff all around our shelter.

I'm scared to death to make the wrong decision. If it was just me I'd risk it with no question. But there is the baby and Nydia to consider. Why should they suffer from my decision? But on the other hand we have to know because we can't stay hidden here forever. Sanitation is a problem and we are using water faster than I expected as well. Lack of light will also make us all sick pretty soon too.

One week. I'm giving it one more week. When that week is up … I'll face it when it gets here. For now, all we have are these walls between us and possible doom.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Part Seven: And All the King's Men**_

You've heard of writer's block? We'll I've had survivor's block. Life has been … surreal. I hate using that word; it is so trite and meaningless almost because of how much it has been used. But that is the only word I can think of to describe how things have been.

One week I told myself, just one week. Surely I could hold on that long just to be sure, absolutely sure, that it was safe to go out. So of course logically I didn't even last three days before I had to get out of my personal hobbit hole or go stark raving crazy.

I knew I was taking a chance - a huge one - but I couldn't wait any longer. All of the logic in the world couldn't change the fact that I needed fresh water, fresh air, and sunlight and so did Nydia and Neeno (Nydia's nickname for the baby). Nope, I hadn't named the baby yet. Every time I thought I just had to sit down and do it, all I could see was Mateo's face and I broke down. I know it didn't make sense but that is the way it was. I couldn't name him Mateo Jr.; it hurts too badly and I don't think Nydia would handle it well. She wanted to call him Angel which is a Spanish male name but for some reason I just couldn't do it, not without Mateo. I knew he needed a name but for a while Neeno was all we needed. It's not like there was anyone to record his birth.

More than the water, air, and light I mentally needed "out." It smelled really bad in our hole. I knew it but my brain had kind of turned my nose off so that we could survive. At the first whiff of fresh air though I nearly gagged when I realized how bad our living quarters really smelled. I left Nydia and Neeno behind as I crawled through the "tunnel" and pushed the stove out of the way and climbed out and into the kitchen.

Everything was dark and silent. I had a moment of disorientation, almost like an attack of agoraphobia, before I got my bearings. I turned on the wind up flashlight and looked around. Some of my plants had suffered even though I had tried to set up a "greenhouse" but some of them looked like they were OK … not great, but OK. The house was humid and dank and I could see mildew beginning to grow in a few places. I knew I would have to deal with that soon enough but I was more interested in seeing if there was a world left outside. But first I pulled out the KFM and set it up.

No reading on the KFM so again I wondered if I had put it together correctly. I was just about ready to pull the first panel down and see what was going on outside when there was a horrible BOOM! I nearly panicked and ran back into the tunnel but then that noise was followed by … rain. Lots and lots of rain from the sound of it.

I nearly fainted in relief.

"Nonny!" came the plaintive cry from the tunnel.

"Stay inside Nydia. It is just a thunderstorm. Give me time to check things out."

"Hurry Nonny! Neeno is scared."

It wasn't Neeno that was scared, it was Nydia. It took time but I removed the last covering I installed and tried to look out but all I saw was blackness. It didn't make sense. Cautiously I opened the door and walked out into … the night. Somehow during our time in our shelter I'd managed to lose enough time that I'd gotten our "days" and "nights" mixed up. The rain fell in torrents so exploring was impossible but I did feel a definite chill off of the rain that signaled a change in weather was coming.

I tried to see beyond the screen cage that surrounded the pool and lanai but the night and storm was impenetrable. But the air was fresh and I went back to the shelter and got Nydia and the baby and let them sit in the open house for a while. The rain, despite its fierceness was soothing and soon we all three dozed. Neeno's demands woke me up in time to see the first pinkish rays of sunlight creeping into the sky. It was definitely cooler than it had been but I figured it was just an early cool snap.

I had to crawl back into the "shelter" to get to our supplies and I vowed it would be the last time I had to do it quite that way. As soon as Nydia and the baby were taken care of I cleaned up in the family room – thank goodness for ceramic tile floors – and laid a relatively clean blanket on the floor. Nydia played, Neeno slept, and I checked over the house since I was still somewhat afraid of going outside. It would take some time but it looked like all that the house needed was a serious cleaning. Everything would need to be scrubbed because of the mildew that was trying to take hold here and there but I knew with enough elbow grease I could get rid of it.

After the house I had to force myself to try the outside again. I didn't get it. I'd been cooped up so long that I was going stir crazy. I broke the one week wait promise that I had made myself because I needed out. Now I was out and every time I got near an exterior door or window I got the heeby-jeebies. It didn't make the least bit of sense to me at the time.

I pulled the covering off the door to the lanai once again and opened the door. I nearly screamed at how bright it was. After living in near darkness, only supplemented by meager wind up lights, the sudden brightness of the full sun felt like a nail to my optic nerves. It took over thirty minutes for my eyes to adjust and when they finally did all I could do was stand there with my mouth open.

The pool was green; the pump was running … the solar cells had continued to work so I assumed they'd been protected enough that the original flash hadn't hurt them any. I ran over to the pump and threw it off real quick when I realized that the filter was way passed needing to be cleaned. I put that down on my list of immediate things to do. The screen had a little bit of debris on it but not enough to tear it which I thought was a blessing. Through the screens I could see that the grass in the yard was waist high. The plants on the lanai had fared about as well as the ones in the house had; not great but not bad either.

That was about as much outside as I could take. I turned to come back inside to find Nydia standing there on the stoop staring at me.

"Want to see everything?" I asked her.

All I got was a negative shake of the head.

"You sure?"

To that she nodded her head in affirmative. Seems like I wasn't the only one having trouble adjusting.

I came back in and aired out the house a little and worked at getting the shelter aired out. I didn't want to sleep in there any longer but when it came right down to it I felt safer there than any place. It wasn't logical given that it was no longer very healthy and I made a vow … only one more night.

Broke that vow too, it took me three before I felt I had the house in sufficient shape – not to mention my own brain in sufficient shape – to exist outside of the shelter. We moved back up into the hidden room. The air was certainly better though it did take Nydia and I both a while to get used to the night noises that seemed overly large after living in the silent and nearly total dark of the shelter.

Nydia, Neeno, and I existed. We got up in the mornings … no more night crawling for me with an infant to care for … worked throughout the daylight hours and when it began to darken I would bring the children inside, close the security doors, and we would eat our dwindling supply of food. I could record the minutiae of our lives but there really wasn't that much to it. I was focused on three main things … water, shelter, and food. And it was in that order.

Every day I thanked God that the solar set up for the well and pool continued to work; without those I would have been forced to exert even more effort to collect and purify the swamp water. After drawing the water that we would need for the day and/or refilling the pool as necessary I started cleaning and gardening. The pool was brushed down every day and the filter cleaned as necessary. I still had a ton of salt to keep the pool chlorinated but it had been a royal battle to get the algae out of it when we had first exited the shelter.

After the pool came the house. Bleach was a thing of the past, all I could do was boil water to sanitize everything. It meant cleaning more often and it made me appreciate the things that I once took for granted that were gone. Bath soap was dwindling as well even though I had once thought I had had enough to last a lifetime so we bathed every day just to fend off the dirt.

I did my best to reclaim our yard. My flabby muscles became taught once again as I used the swing blade and whatever other tool I could find to cut the grass and clear the boundaries of the property. I did my best to finish the raised garden spaces while continuing to exploit my container garden.

In the evenings I took care of our clothes and taught Nydia to read and do her sums. As a treat one night I hooked up the small portable TV/DVD player to a battery and put in a disk that had once been her favorite. It was a miserable flop. The pictures on the screen were now as disconnected from our reality as it was possible to be.

It had been weeks since we had exited the shelter and I had neither seen nor heard a single human being. Even more than that I hadn't heard an engine of any type; no motors, no planes, no nothing. Even more odd was that I had seen very few animals. Birds yes, thank goodness, or we would have been carried off by the insects. The owls that had lived behind the barn were still there. I would watch them swoop down on the occasional black racer or swamp bunny that had gotten brave enough to venture out of the overgrowth that surrounded us and continually threatened to overwhelm us. Felines I had only seen one of and when it had seen me it streaked off like the hounds of hell were on its heels. Of dogs I had not seen one, and nothing larger either. Even though we lived in a suburb on quiet evenings you could still hear the sounds of the cattle that were kept in a field just a mile away as the crow flies … or as it once flew.

When we had first gotten out of the shelter I had thought that surely someone would come eventually. The military maybe or the National Guard would want to know what was happening, to see who was still here. I used to listen to the radio trying to discern something purposeful and intentional in the static but there was nothing. Eventually I stopped listening to the radio because it was a drain on our power and one of the batteries had already died and couldn't be revived. I told myself that it didn't matter anyway, no one was coming.

And eventually I started believing that too. I stopped looking down the road wondering when someone would come, if something would come. I only stopped if an odd noise caught my ear, but the first thought in my head was no longer that it was a human made noise. I even got to a point when I made peace with the feeling that Mateo was simply not going to come … not because he didn't want to but because something prevented him. I didn't even wonder if it was death, I simply released him to whatever the truth was. It wasn't his fault that he wasn't here.

A grown man would certainly have made it difficult for us. Our supplies were dangerously low and I had started rationing them and putting a lot of effort into our garden. I was feeling more confident as the weather cooled and the plants that I managed to get to come up didn't look so pathetic. The cooling was earlier in the season than it normally was but I put that down to just a normal fluctuation.

Then one night the smell of smoke woke me up. At first I was incredulous and thought, there was no way I could have forgotten to put out the grill from where I had boiled water for our evening baths. I crept downstairs and the smell was even stronger. I followed it to the chimney where no fire had been lit in over a year … but the smell was definitely strongest at that point.

A small part of me started getting frightened. I went out the back door and as soon as I stepped outside I was nearly gagging. It looked like whisps of fog floating on the breeze … but there was no breeze. I ran to the front of the house and that small frightened part suddenly grew into a giant. Off in the distance I could see a glow … where no glow should have been. I ran back inside, up the stairs and tore off the covering and opened the shutters of the hidden room. I was looking at one of my worst nightmares.

"Nydia! Nydia! Wake up love. You need to help Nonny. Grab your backpack … yes, the special one that we always keep packed. Come on doll baby. Now get dressed and … yes, yes that's right, just like we practiced."

I grabbed my back pack and the one that we had made for Neeno and I hurried all three of us down the stairs. I threw what food that was portable into a gardening wagon that I kept to help move things around. By the time I was done with that the smoke in the air was even thicker. I was afraid that I had left it too late. There was no going left or right – up or down the street – that wouldn't gain us anything; it was the swamp or nothing. That's when I realized I wouldn't be able to pull the wagon through the swamp.

I nearly panicked but was saved once again as an idea sprang into my head. In my cleaning I had opened the barn back up and it was only locked with a chain. After I had gotten in there I found what I wanted in seconds but it took me nearly five minutes to get it down; Mateo's old canoe. I prayed that it had no holes and God heard me.

I loaded the food and then Nydia into the canoe and then put Neeno into Nydia's arms. The smoke was thicker than ever and I was terrified that their little lungs wouldn't be able to handle it. I ran back to the house and grabbed a sheet, threw it in the pool and then ran back out to them and laid the sheet over them. It afforded two advantages; it helped keep the smoke off of them and out of them and they didn't have to see what was happening.

Saying another prayer I started walking, pulling the canoe behind me. For the most part the water got no higher than my hips but there were a few times when I was swimming. In the dark the only thing that gave me directions was that the light was coming from behind me. I finally beached on a small island in the middle of the swampy area and pulled the canoe up. When I pulled the sheet back I saw that both Nydia and Neeno were asleep. Thank the Lord for the ways of children. Had they been awake they might have tipped the canoe.

We stayed on the island for a miserable two days, but eventually I had to know what had happened. The trip in reverse seemed even longer and somehow worse going back. I had no hope, I just needed to know and to see if there was anything that I could salvage of the garden.

But I was shocked to see that the house, though covered in bits of ash here and there, still stood. The smell of burned wood was strong so I knew that the fire damage couldn't be that far off and sure enough as I had become brave enough to leave the yard for safety's sake, I found I was brave enough to explore to see where the fire had stopped.

It hadn't stopped. It had turned. I reached the subdivision that was to the east of the house, only there wasn't a subdivision, only the twisted carcasses of the houses that once stood there. I couldn't see the other side of the damage. I had no idea how far it went. It had come close, of that there was no doubt, but not close enough to do us damage.

Life returned to "normal" … or at least the version of normal that we'd been living since we exited the shelter. I was getting comfortable. There was a routine to life that was soothing. I put everything I was into this life. There wasn't even any grief for my different "old lives" as there had been in the past. I could look back and see a clear delineation for each incarnation of me … getting Hank out of my life, the short time I was a teacher, becoming "Nonny", losing my parents, becoming Mateo's wife, the world becoming a basket case, losing Mateo and then learning to live without him, entering the shelter as one person and exiting it as yet another version of me. Each incarnation had forced me to peel away a layer. What I was at that time was basic, almost primitive. The children and my faith were quite literally the only things that got me up in the morning and reminded me to breathe … and I was fine with that.

Day in and day out … until …

Isn't there always an "until"? I heard a sound. I lifted my head and looked around. Nothing. I went back to my work which that day was trying to lay a straight row so that I could plant another succession planting of I forget just what. I was in a sweater too large for me despite the fact that it was my own. Nydia was outgrowing her clothes; I had the exact opposite problem. The only halfway normal sized thing about me was my chest these days and that is because I was feeding Neeno. Even my pre-pregnancy clothes seemed to no longer fit well. I had done my best to sew rompers for Neeno but it wasn't easy. I used bits of my clothes, bits of Mateo's clothes, I cut sheets up for diapers and shower curtains to hold the mess in until I could change him.

I had just shrugged the sweater a little tighter against a sharp breeze when I heard the noise again. It sounded like something had hit the front gate. I had no sooner made the decision to go see what it could be when four soldiers came around the side of the house.

I ran towards the children when a voice said, "Hey! Hey lady! It's OK … really! We're not gonna hurt you … or the …oh my God … Sarge! … Sarge! There's a couple of kids too!"

"I can see that Neils so calm down so that the lady doesn't think the rest of us are as crazy as you are."

I knew that voice. "Hi. Remember me?"

It was Sgt. Tag and it looked like she had another puppy to replace Decker. Seeing her, as shocking as it was, made me stop and nearly laugh.

"I swear, I couldn't believe it when I saw it on the vid for myself …," Sgt. Tag said unusually emotional.

I finally found my own voice, "Couldn't believe what?"

"You really have no idea what has been going on?" she said what looking at me suspiciously.

I turned to Nydia who was peeking out from behind me and said, "Sweetheart, do you want to go play …"

"No!"

Well, that was definitive, she didn't want to move away from me at all.

"It's all right. I can spell if need be as you will recall." Sgt. Tag said with a misty look to her eyes.

"Do you mind if my men look around?" she asked. At my sudden tensing she said, "Just around the yard, take a few samples, that sort of thing. You might hear two other groups, one at either end of your road, moving around in the tall grass and doing the same."

"Tell them to watch for ticks."

"Neils!"

"Yeah Sarge?"

"Do we know about ticks?"

The young man turned every shade of red known to man. "Yes ma'am. We know about ticks."

She smiled at me. Poor kid. She'd definitely taken him under her wing and was trying to toughen the puppy up.

"So, how much do you know about what has happened."

Being careful with my words while trying to keep an eye out on what her men were doing I responded, "What I think happened was a bomb of some type was dropped to the south of here."

She nodded. "Your thinking is correct. Let me go back a ways however. When we left you there were still pockets of people all around here, quite a few actually; nowhere near the population that used to live here but no small number either. The heavy bombing scared off quite a few but not as many as you would have thought it should have. As supplies dried up and people realized no one could come to the rescue of such a large population of people even the gangs began to leave town if not outright die off. People started to migrate out to the rural areas. Not to be sacrilegious for whom it matters but it was worse than the Trail of Tears. Between armed insurgents and the gangs herding people along the bodies started stacking up like cord wood along every major corridor. The only difference was that people chose to start down the road … it was once they got on it that they lost most if not all of their options."

I nodded my understanding of what she was trying to draw a picture of.

"Then came the rumors. Did you hear any of those?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that so I got as close to the truth as I could without giving away anyone in particular. "I ran into a couple of people that tried to get me to leave. I was too pregnant to be out on the road. I just decided to make the best of it here. At least here I knew I would have a roof over my head and my garden to feed us with."

"Amazing."

"How so?"

"You woman, a small nuclear device was detonated on a boat a little south of the mouth of Tampa Bay."

"Sure, I saw the flash."

"You saw …?! Let me see your eyes," she demanded.

"Not directly," I said, pulling back away from the hand that would have grabbed my chin. "We were out back here. It was night. There was a flash and we were in the shadow of the house. I dropped, tucked Nydia under me, and then we ran for the house."

She sighed. "I am not calling you a liar but … you realize how difficult this is for us to believe?"

Confused by her tone I said, "Not … not really."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Do you happen to have a fall out shelter in that house?"

Slowly I answered, "It was a homemade one."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Would you allow me to see it?"

The thought of her and those men in the house terrified me. "Only me … I just need to verify what you are telling me. My word will be enough to satisfy the loony docs that are chewing at the bit to know how you … and two children … are the only souls around for miles when this area has been repeatedly swept."

"I haven't heard any motors, not since I came out of the shelter."

"You wouldn't have. The sweeps were conducted by unmanned drones taking aerial photos."

"Then how come you are here now?" I asked.

"We were examining photos of the fire when something caught Neils' eye." I looked over at the young man and watched his ears turn the color of an old fire engine. "It was an anomaly. He brought it to me. I compared it to our old surveys and … I just about dropped my teeth thinking that I couldn't be thinking what I was thinking. There are very few legitimate coincidences in this life. Now, I really would like to see this shelter of yours."

Feeling caught between a rock and a hard place I decided to take her as far as the kitchen and explain things. I'd already dismantled a lot of it but she would still be able to see the basic structure.

When I was finished we walked back outside and sat on the concrete garden benches. She was silent so long I grew worried. When she finally spoke her voice was gentle, "The baby was born in the shelter?"

"That first night. I guess … well, it must have been the shock. I was near my time but other things had my attention. It kind of caught me off guard."

"Labor always catches you off guard. May … may I hold him?" she asked quietly.

The tone she used startled me. "What's his name?" She was as gentle with him as she was loud with her "boys."

"Neeno … that's all we are calling him for now." I wondered if I should ask but finally had to. "Sgt. Tag? What of your family?"

I saw her swallow and knew it would be hard news. "One of my … my daughters. Some contaminated items made it through inspection. She isn't sick … not yet. They don't know how … how long though. Could be years … could be days. We'll … we'll know when we know basically."

"Can't the doctors tell you anymore than that?"

"She's been triaged. Anyone with an exposure rate in excess of their guidelines is put on triage. I'm sorry, but I can't even get a doctor out here to …"

Worried that she thought I expected someone to rescue us I said, "Oh … don't. Really … it's OK. I'm sorry if I made it sound as if I expected anything."

She gave me a long, intent look. "No. You aren't the type to expect a hand out." She gave another sigh as she handed Neeno back when he started to fuss for his dinner. She told the "boys" to keep their eyes in their heads and to look the other way and I put Neeno to eating.

"Now," she said going back to her more no-nonsense brusqueness. "What else do you know since the explosion?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. I finally had no choice but to come out. The shelter wasn't … hygienic … and we needed fresh water and air. I was going a little more than stir crazy as well. You people are the first live thing I've seen bigger than a swamp bunny since before the night the bomb exploded."

I could see the wheels spinning in her head. "No large animals? No humans? What about cats … and dogs?"

"None of the above."

"Well, that stands to reason all things considered I suppose."

I looked at her trying to understand what she meant. "Let's see. It was a smallish bomb, I won't go into details as I doubt they'd mean much to you; suffice it to say that it was bad, but nowhere near as bad as it could have been. When the bomb exploded at the mouth of the bay … you have to understand, it wasn't the first or the last that was detonated around the world."

I was shocked. I had only been thinking of my own situation. I hadn't had the energy … really hadn't dared to find the energy since my own situation was so precarious … to think about the rest of the world. Now Sgt. Tag's words stung me, making me feel thoughtless and selfish … and bringing niggling doubts once again about Mateo's survival."

"How … how many?"

"Over two dozen in this country alone, but they were relatively small devices with only localized effects. And compared to what happened in Europe and Asia we got off luck." She shook her head. "We're hurt, make no mistake about that. There were already infrastructure failures but we had options; all we needed to do was reopen the fuel and supply pipelines and get the plants back up and running. But the bombs … they destroyed the facilities. Now it isn't just a matter of re-opening … we have to relocate and rebuild. The nuclear power plants are in the best shape but it will take a while to get them fully operational again after the partial shutdowns that became necessary. Building new plants … well, imagine having to build the infrastructure of basic manufacturing of steel, plastics, and electronics before we can even begin to plan on any new structures."

I shuddered at the magnitude of the challenge she was describing. "You said … other places were worse."

"The Middle East basically tore itself apart. No one understands it but somehow Israel has survived with only token damage. Some of the settlements in the Gaza Strip are toast but the country itself is intact from the ground to the government. But as you can imagine they are extremely paranoid at the moment and no one is going near them figuratively or literally … they've got an itchy trigger finger. They are barely responding to any communications from outside their country and with the extreme conservatives in control … we are giving them all the space they want," she said with a humorless smile. "Egypt has also closed its borders. The Aswan Dam was badly damaged by Palestinian militants in a backlash for the border closing when things got hot between Hamas and Israel. The Jordanians and the Egyptians are the only two countries in that area that are making anything approaching sense and that is still not saying a whole lot. The Muslim Brotherhood is in power one day and out the next. The Saudis are in disarray. Personally many of us think certain families and who they support have come home to roost and there are a lot of internal power plays coinciding with damage to their own infrastructure. Certainly the country's overall wealth has disintegrated in direct proportion to the worldwide economic depression we are now in."

She took a sip of her canteen before continuing. "Of course when the Middle East blew it started drawing in neighboring regions. Eastern Europe, parts of Russia, parts of China … big ones flew in the skies over there. The devastation is incalculable. In Western Europe France completely imploded as did parts of Britain … not from nukes but from their immigrant populations."

"What about Africa?"

"Good question. Frankly I don't know. Nearly the entire continent has gone dark and silent. Like I said, Egypt is OK but the rest of northern Africa is going tribal. South Africa is a huge battle ground as those dissatisfied with the status quo on both sides make their move. Some of us think China is making resource grabs as they attempted to in Australia but there has been no official confirmation of this. There isn't a thing we can do about it however. Just like the Koreas … let them tear themselves apart, it's not our problem."

"No one is asking the US for help?" I asked thinking how unusual it would be for our government not to be trying to help rebuild the destroyed areas.

"Of course they are, don't be naive. But we aren't in any shape to help … and frankly the majority of those that are having their voices heard by the government don't want to help any longer. That is making the beggars scream in anger at us for suddenly doing what they asked us to do in the past … leave them alone," she snorted. "When we pulled our troops out of Afghanistan to protect our own borders we dumped everything we had left on every suspected target on the books. All of our remote teams around the world were given the green light to take their targets out … and most did so with at least some success."

I didn't care for the cat-who-got-the-cream look that Tag had on her face. I understood it but I didn't want to get drawn into what it meant. On the one hand it was good that we got some of our own back after having to be so careful over the years … on the other hand at what cost to our own morality.

"What about Congress? What are they doing to …"

She stopped me with a look. "You're not listening girl, things are in the toilet and changes have been made. We got as many members of Congress out as we could before the stinky stuff started flying in earnest but not many. Some refused to leave their families. Some were taken out in explosions. Some were assassinated by their own constituents. Some just decided they were too old to fight and took their own way out. 'The President' has changed at least four times since all this began. I don't even know who is filling that position right now, probably just some figurehead to hold the slot. We've got a functioning government that is run along Constitutional lines, but the Presidential powers … all national government powers … are put in check by state rights and responsibilities as well as the military hierarchy who are the primary lines of repair and provision at this time. The national government is handling the orders to re-establish interstate travel and commerce and is maintaining the military. The military is in charge of protecting our national boundaries, dealing with any incursions of international forces, and re-establishing communications with our allies. Anything more than that is handled at the state level. Intrastate commerce and defense is being handled by each state's National Guard. The national government does try and act as go between with the states when issues of refugees come up, but only if the states involved can't come to some kind of understanding. Naturally, some states are handling things better than others. Florida has her problems but we are doing fairly well all things considered. Speaking of, I'll do my best to get you some supplies but it may take time."

I was overwhelmed with information but I knew that if I didn't stop her, Tag would take over and the last thing I wanted to do was to lose control of what little bit I had. "I don't recall asking you for anything."

"Don't get snarky with me girl. God may have sent the crows to feed Elijah but all you've got is me. And you will let me help you … if not for your own sake then for your two little ones."

Despite my best effort to deny her all I had to do was look down at Nydia and Neeno and I knew I would have to swallow my pride.

I was on the point of agreeing when the young man named Neils ran up. "Sarge, trouble at the Outpost. They need us back asap."

They left so quickly Tag and I never finished our conversation. I realized I hadn't even thought to ask them where they were stationed at. The rest of the day seemed flat and unsettled. That night it took me a while to settle down as thoughts I would rather have not thought kept flittering through my head. For the next several days it was the same but as time passed the appearance and then disappearance of Tag and her men faded like it had been nothing but a daydream.

Three weeks went by and then I looked up as a sound like a mosquito caught my ear. It was a small plane circling high in the sky and then taking off to the north, eventually disappearing behind a few puffy clouds that presaged rain. At least I could finally tell myself that I hadn't imagined it all, that there were still other people in the world.

Another month and the weather was definitely cooler than it should have been. Nydia and the baby spent most of their time in the house near the fireplace. I began to worry that the citrus would freeze before I could harvest it. My bananas were definitely in trouble. I harvested three stalks in October but none of the other blooms ever made fruit.

I gave up planting anything but the coolest weather crops outside and had to keep the heat lamp running every night in the greenhouse; another serious drain on the energy I collected. The cloudy skies also caused me to cut back on all but the most essential power use. Keeping the wood pile filled drained my personal energy supply. Cutting wood was hard work and that is what I was doing when I heard an awful noise out front.

Getting over the shock and finally recognizing Pvt. Neils allowed me to calm down.

He could tell I was not happy to see such a group of men and he removed his hat and said hurriedly, "Ma'am, Capt. Tag sends her best."

"Capt. Tag? I thought she was a sergeant."

"Yes ma'am and she probably wishes she still was. She turned down all of the field promotions she was offered for as long as she dared but when they set up the big refugee camp she got her own quarters and brought her family down to live with her. She sure doesn't like being tied to a desk all the time. Where would you like us to unload this stuff?"

"What stuff? I can't take that! I didn't ask …"

"Ma'am, please don't. Capt. Tag promised a month of hell in the refugee kitchens if we didn't get this to you and make sure you took it. You wouldn't want that would you?"

Neils and all five of the men with him turned eyes on me that would have made a cocker spaniel jealous. Honestly, Tag was a horrible manipulator, sending a bunch of puppies to do her dirty work because she knew I wouldn't kick them. They unloaded "the stuff" where I told them to and they also helped drag some fallen limbs from around the neighborhood and cut them up before leaving. After they left I found a note from Tag.

Leah,

I would have brought this stuff myself to fulfill my promise but as Neils has no doubt blabbed my responsibilities have increased. The only real compensation is that my time with my family has also increased making it all worth it.

A word to the wise, the situation remains fluid in the state. Do not fail to maintain your situational awareness. Just because you don't see other people in your area does not mean that they aren't moving through there though I have no data on any permanent camps or settlements.

Our scientists say it is unlikely that North America will feel a full nuclear winter but a disruption in normal weather patterns, similar to the one caused by historic volcanic eruptions, is already occurring. The change in weather has contributed to a large stream of emigrants leaving the north heading our way though every state has their own border crossings that slow the waves down to trickles. Lack of services along the way also leave those few who survive the trek to make it this far in poor condition.

We may also see further incursions from international refugees from the island nations and from parts of Central America. The boat people are in even worse condition than our own and worse, more prone to desperate acts.

As far as the contents of this shipment, I can see your face as if I was standing there beside you. This amounts to the same as the state is providing other refugee outposts so don't get bent out of shape. Making sure you are able to stay where you are means a lighter workload in the camps so it all evens out in the end. There is no need to go into it further; it is little enough as it is and doubtful under current conditions that we can provide more.

As winter closes the northern travel routes and the influx levels off or ceases I will try and send another team to check on you. I may also ask that you provide them with suggestions for setting up individual homesteads like your own so that we can try and empty some of the refugee camps. Too many people on top of one another reminds me too much of the FEMA camps and I refuse to run one of those hell holes. The west and northeast coast states may find them useful but it is the wrong fit for the personality of our people here in the south.

God Bless and Keep Your and Yours,

Tag

I folded the letter up and stuck it in my apron pocket smiling despite myself. Tag reminded me of the girls' dean at my high school. She'd snarl and snap and most people thought she was a nasty old gator, but I knew for a fact she'd also take the head off of anyone … student or staff … that she thought was taking advantage of anyone in her care. Why or how Tag had come to think of me as one of her responsibilities I didn't know but I was beginning to think that maybe I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth and just accept that some things happened for a reason.

What Tag called "not much" took up a good chunk of the lanai. I hadn't let the men in the house, I did have some boundaries that I wasn't too crazy about giving up and the house was sacrosanct. I began to inventory the jumble of items and realized that if I was careful and used my existing supplies this could easily get me through to the new year and a little on the other side giving me time to see whether the citrus crop failed and whether I could grow enough fresh to provide for us when, as was inevitable, all of the other supplies eventually ran out.

There were drums, barrels, buckets, and burlap bags and they all took some ingenuity on my part to get into the house and put away. There was a large drum of dried corn kernels and a smaller drum of wheat. There was a large plastic barrel of oat groats, another or rice, a smaller one of rolled oats, and another small one of barley. There were plastic containers of dried fruits and veggies and several burlap bags of dried beans. There were six gallon buckets of salt, dried potato flakes, some kind of 9 grain cereal, and what looked like some kind of dried fruit and granola mix. There was a small drum of light-colored, sticky stuff that turned out to be corn syrup and another of the same size that was some kind of thick, dark molasses. I noticed there were no seasonings but there was a drum of vegetable oil and a couple of buckets of lard. There were also two large buckets of peanuts still in their shell that would give me both peanut butter and fat, both of which were very low in the supplies I had been able to save. The last two items were the smallest yet were the most difficult to get into. Each box had multiple layers of tape over a protective waxed paper cover. The first one held jerky and sticks of dried meat, heavily salted but so good that I couldn't resist tearing a piece apart and sharing it with Nydia. The other box held two large blocks of baker's chocolate, powdered cocoa, some waterproof matches, a pamphlet on collecting and purifying water, some coffee filters (though no coffee), a nalgene water bottle and filter and a small cone of brown sugar and bottle of creamer.

I was thankful for all of it but I also tried to look at it with an eye to what was missing to make it a more balanced food supply for a group of people and when I did that what was missing was obvious. Except for the bottle of creamer there were no dairy products … no dried milk, no cheese, no cheese powder, no powdered eggs, etc. Thanks to the buying spree that Mateo and I had gone on … oh how long ago it seems … I still had plenty of dairy products left but they wouldn't last forever and it looked like I couldn't really count on trade to provide a solution to the deficiency.

Seasonings was another deficiency I noted but anyone with access to some herbs could fix that if they were willing to learn how to use what didn't come from a bottle on the grocery store shelves. My potted and planted herbs were the only thing that hadn't suffered at all while we were in the shelter. Some of them even seemed the better for me leaving them alone. I did occasionally have to fight the gopher tortoises but the battles weren't frequent enough to bother me … besides turtle soup wasn't bad at all when you were hungry.

There also wasn't as much rice as I expected which really surprised me although if the Gulf Coast had been hit maybe a lot of the year's crop had been contaminated or something. The dried fruits and veggies also wouldn't go very far if I used them as is rather than mixing them up with other things. The dried meat would barely supplement the protein provided by the dried beans. I definitely needed to come up with some kind of plan for placing my dwindling supply of animal protein. It looked like more aggressive hunting was in my future, assuming I could find anything to hunt … turtles were easy and plentiful as were bunnies but neither was something we could survive on long term.

I was beginning to think that the reason that I wasn't seeing any larger animals … or dogs or cats … was because people had eaten them. I know that seemed gross at first glance but I knew that both dog and cat was featured on the menu of some foreign countries as a common item. I was lucky that I hadn't run into any gators in the swamp but that didn't mean they weren't in there, just that I hadn't seen them. Hunting gator though wasn't something that I thought I was capable of, at least not at that point. What I really needed to do if I wanted to be self-sufficient long term was get my own domesticated animals … chickens, goats, cows, pigs … or at least one of those. I thought longingly of the chickens that Mateo had brought home so long ago, only for us to have to kill and eat them when they stopped laying eggs no matter how much we fed them.

For the first time in a long while I was finally doing something besides just existing and trying to survive for the short term. I felt energized. Looking up I saw the wispy clouds that had been there earlier had turned into real thunderheads. I hurried to finish bringing the supplies in off of the lanai so that I could clear the screens off the rain barrels and bring in enough wood so I wouldn't have to light a smoky fire tonight or in the morning.

Even though I was hurrying I felt myself smiling, not even the storm on the horizon had the ability to bring me down this time. And when the first fat, cold drops started to fall my little family was snug inside and a filling soup was simmering on the fireplace. Nydia seemed to sense my change in mood and reflected in her own. Even Neeno seemed to guzzle his meal with more gusto than he had recently. It was as I was putting them to bed that I casually glanced at the calendar and realized that Thanksgiving was only a few days away. This gave me another goal to work towards and after that was Christmas.

As I lay my own head down I realized what had been missing and was again in my life. Humpty Dumpty may have fallen off the wall so badly that none of the king's men could put him back together the same way ever again, but life did go on. But I had finally found what I had lost … hope. I had hope and with hope the possibilities for the future were only limited by what I could imagine.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Part Eight: What did I dream?**_

 _What did I dream?_  
 _I do not know;_  
 _The fragments fly like chaff._  
 _Yet strange my mind_  
 _Was tickled so,_  
 _I cannot help but laugh._

Life and the cogs that turn it never stop moving. Oh they feel like they've stopped but in reality so long as you are drawing breath the wheels of your life are in motion. The hope I found that day that Capt. Tag's puppies had delivered the supplies bolstered me and seemed to restart a part of my brain that had fallen into a coma out of self-preservation. With my awakening came the recognition of the challenges we faced but there was also that hope … and faith … that if I wasn't up for the job that Someone Greater would lend me some of His strength and I would be able to do what needed doing.

And boy, were there challenges. The weather was colder than I ever remembered it being at the end of November and beginning of December. Oh sure, we'd had the occasional early frost but this was completely different, this was that change in weather patterns that Capt. Tag had warned me about. Gardening the old way was going to be impossible so I pulled out one of the books that someone had given my mother years ago, when I was too young to appreciate what it was about.

There was this man named Eliot Coleman and he may not have started the idea of year-round gardening but he did have a hand it making it popular almost to the point of being a fad at one point. Normally in our part of Florida the growing season is 356 days a year. You could grow something or harvest something year 'round. But with the cold weather bearing down as I'd never experienced before I knew that I couldn't take it for granted, knew that I would have to change the way I did things or all of my previous efforts would be for naught. I gave that book a reading all in a single day and realized that more than likely I could make things better if I could find the supplies I needed.

I had rolls of plastic sheeting and floating cloth in the barn. For the "frame" I realized with a little effort I could probably scavenge from the fire damaged area. It wasn't easy by any stretch but since I didn't have any social obligations to distract me – and yes that tongue in cheek thought was my humor reviving along with my hope and faith – I had nothing but time on my hands to get the work done. But better yet I also had the tools to do what I wanted to do, and the know-how of how to use them. When I brought all of the tools back from the Trask's workshop one of the things that I had debated on bringing was an electric rebar bender. I had known what it was because my father had rented them before as he couldn't afford to own one; they cost several thousands of dollars. There were manual pipe benders but they took strength to operate, and since I had neither I used what I did have. My big problem was that the mechanism was electric.

I refused to let it deter me. First I gathered the rebar I could from the burned over area. The stuff was all over the place but I didn't take but the best and least twisted. I wanted the rebar bender to have to work as little as possible to create the curved pieces I needed. What I would do is last thing at night I would bend the rebar until the batteries ran out. I would then hook the batteries back up to the solar charger and go inside for the night. Next morning I would get up, create what frames I could using the pieces I had bent the previous night and usually by the time I couldn't go any further the batteries would be charged enough for me to bend more pieces. This continued for days.

Only once or twice did the weather not cooperate and charge the batteries quick enough to keep up with what I needed. On those days I would build more raised beds. I didn't necessarily get to plant anything in these beds because I didn't have time – or compost – to fill them yet but they would be there when I needed them later. Eventually the entire back yard was full of either covered rows or "pods" in places where rows wouldn't work. The rows looked strange enough but the pods looked like black igloos.

As the weather got still colder I started to worry about my citrus and other fruit trees. I knew the pears could stand some cold, the other deciduous trees could as well and might even be better for it since they required more cold hours than they normally got, but my citrus was going to be toast if I didn't do something. So as Thanksgiving passed and Christmas approached I salvaged more building supplies. I built little huts over the trees that were short enough for me to do this with. I did have some citrus in large planters and those I simply moved inside; the end of the family room where the French doors were started to looking like a jungle but I was to the point that food was far more important that décor.

The "huts" were built with scrap wood that came from wherever I could find it, including the interior walls of some of the abandoned houses; it was pressure treated and that gave me some confidence that the huts would last a little longer than a single season. On the "frame" I would nail plywood about half way up and then over the plywood I would nail shingles or roofing paper, anything dark that would absorb heat. The other benefits to doing this was that one, it helped me to square up and stabilize the structure and two, I didn't have to use so much plastic to finish the greenhouse with. But even with that strategy I was quickly funning out of plastic so I started thinking smarter; I used windows when I could find them whole and in their frames. When I couldn't get the windows out I would take the glass itself and then frame over the edges with wooden trim that I pulled off of baseboards and door frames. I always built in a door so that I could walk or crawl into the huts plus I needed a place where the insects could get in once … if … the trees bloomed.

I couldn't protect all of the trees and watched in helpless frustration as some of the biggest and oldest succumbed to the shock of freeze after freeze after freeze. It broke my heart to watch those trees die and as the citrus fruit was finally ripe enough to pull – the freezing forcing the sugar into the fruit faster than normal – I saved all of the seeds I could vowing that I would figure out how to grow new ones to replace them in the coming years. And yes, I was again thinking in years rather than months, weeks, or days.

It was good that I had my covered rows because without them there would not have been a garden. In November I planted beets, broccoli, spinach, strawberries, cabbage both regular and Chinese, carrots, cauliflower, celery, collards, kale, kohlrabi, lettuce, mustard greens, onions, parsley, English peas, radishes, chard, root turnips, anise, and nasturtium. Cauliflower and chard weren't really my favorites, and neither was kale, but beggars can't be choosers and I needed to grow enough to feed us and that meant using all of the seeds I had not just the ones that I liked. I had already learned that the hungrier you are the less picky your taste buds and I used that same common sense to plan my garden beds. In December I planted more of the same and prayed every day that God would bless us with a good harvest.

The cold weather challenged me in other ways as well. I had to trim back the giant prickly pears that were there when Mateo had originally bought the house. They had made a fine barrier along the fence line between our property and Gerald's but the freezing winds were killing the tops out. I was careful with the pieces that I cut because I had plans for them. The tender pads I kept for cooking. The older ones I laid in growing medium hoping to start new bushes with them that could be potted or replanted when the weather returned to what it should be. The "pears" from these huge bushes I cleaned and cooked up into dishes and preserves that provided something different at our meal times, adding calories and texture that were much needed.

Christmas was Spartan compared to years past and even Nydia realized it. She nearly broke my heart when she said that it was OK if Santa didn't come for her but she hoped that he would still bring something for Neeno. How do you explain to a child … I just couldn't do it, I couldn't take one more bit of precious childhood magic away from her so instead I told her that this year we were going to be like the Magi and follow their example. I read the Precious Story to her and for a treat I made a small batch of bean fudge with some of the cocoa that I had squirreled away. I also made a warm punch using a couple of boxes of lime jello. And to make our feast as special as I could I used one of the last canned hams that I had in storage.

I tried to do something special each day of the week between Christmas and New Years Day, even if it was just something very small. It seemed important to do this; in gratitude, remembrance, as an example, to try and replicate the Event … I'm not sure, it just felt like the right thing to do. And it was precious. Nydia would color me a picture, make collages, give me a rock that she had colored to "look like Neeno's head." The most precious thing she gave me was what she said was a family picture. There was me, Neeno, and herself in the foreground and then standing behind us was a man with very long arms all wrapped around us in a big hug and then behind the man was another "man" with even longer arms wrapped around us and the man who had his arms around the three of us.

"See Nonny? That's Neeno. I know he looks like a potato but he wouldn't hold still when I was trying to draw a picture of him. Then there's me and there's you. And that is Poppy giving us hugs. And that big man is God who is hugging all of us."

I am not ashamed to say that I cried, but not where she could see me. She so rarely brought Mateo up I would wonder if she had started to forget him but then she would do things like that and I didn't know whether my heart was breaking in sadness or in joy.

The New Year arrived and with it some viciously cold weather. This was Florida and our wardrobes reflected it. I fashioned a long coat for Nydia using one of my old ones but I was forced to resort to layering and getting my outside chores done as quickly as possible. It was so bad on most days during that month that I pulled out my family's old dome tent and set it up in the family room. I layered the back and top with some of the blankets and bed spreads that I'd salvaged from the Trask place and put several layers on the floor as well to keep the cold from creeping up from beneath the children. I faced the open side of the tent towards the fireplace and it would capture the heat and keep it so that it couldn't float towards the ceiling. As a matter of fact I eventually made sleeping pallets in there for all three of us when it became too cold to sleep without some source of heat in any of the bedrooms.

Having enough wood to keep the fireplace going 24/7 became another challenge. Small diameter wood was easy enough to collect since I'd become confident enough to go around the neighborhood to bring back all of the fallen tree trash but I had long ago used up the wood that Tag had had her men cut for me from the tree that had fallen in front of the gate. Not only did I need wood to bring warmth but I needed it for cooking as well and while I could do most of the cooking on the fireplace I couldn't do it all that way. I often dug a pit and cooked beans for a couple of meals in my cast iron Dutch oven but for that I needed hot coals. The search for wood that I could burn in doors seemed never ending.

It was still cold in February but I carried on as usual by planting seedlings I had grown indoors of beans, melons, corn, cucumbers, eggplant, peppers, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, winter squash, tomatoes, potatoes, more turnips, more beets, carrots, celery, more collard greens and kale, and more kohlrabi, lettuce, mustard greens, peas, radishes, and chard. But I was learning that with the cold weather came a lack of insects to pollinate when things bloomed which meant having to do it all by hand.

The only exception to this caught me completely by surprise and after I got over my fright I promised to never again curse the ingenuity and perseverance of bees and wasps. I was working in the yard and because it wasn't too cold I had Nydia outside to get some sunlight. Neeno was in a sling across my chest bundled as warm as I could keep him. I could tell he enjoyed being outside but he didn't like the occasional wind that took his breath away so he kept his little face turned towards my chest most of the time. Suddenly Nydia gave a pain-filled scream and we ran towards each other. It took me a few moments to sort out what had happened.

I carefully approached one of my citrus huts and heard to my amazement buzzing. Somehow or other a wasp nest had gone undetected by me in one of the trees and it was so warm inside the hut that they were buzzing like it was the middle of summer. They were frantically collecting nectar from the blooms on the tree and I realized that God was indeed merciful. If none of the other trees made at least I had hope that some of the citrus trees would make as I found that that tree wasn't the only one that had wasps and bees doing what such creatures do. We'd always had problems with such insects around the house and I had routinely destroyed the nests out of habit and dislike of being stung. The only thing I can think of is that the cold had made them so sluggish that when I built the huts over the trees that I didn't notice their hives and since I rarely went into the huts, being too busy with the garden that needed more tending, I hadn't seen that not only was there a hive in the branches but that it was thriving and growing. I knew eventually I would have to allow them out but I told myself not until the weather was warmer.

By the end of February I was very glad that my plan for the covered rows and pods had worked because the wild edibles that I had hoped to harvest weren't to be found. There were no poke shoots, all of the plants were still frozen back to ground level. While my loquats were not wild strictly speaking they were a tree I really didn't have to do much to for them to perform but the ones that weren't in huts were either frozen back dead or their blooms had been burnt by the frosts and freezes and never made. I did harvest a few tropical apricots but barely enough to be worth drying despite the fact that I had tried to pollinate the blooms by hand. The herbs that were planted directly into the ground were still dead above the dirt line and I could only pray that the extra mulch I had managed to put on them protected what was below the ground enough that they would eventually come back.

The beginning of March I briefly gave in to the old depression and worry. It was still much cooler than it normally was. The sun barely made a dent in the clouds that seemed to fill the sky without end. It was also drier which meant I had to water more by hand … but without the aid of the swamp which was nearly empty. The water went so low in the ponds in the area that I saw gators fighting for the bits of mud so that they could hibernate or whatever you call what large reptiles do when it grows so cold that their metabolism slows down. Our food stores were also getting low again; not dangerously low but some of the variety was beginning to disappear. Because of all the clouds it made it difficult to have enough energy to run the well and charge the batteries. And I was hungry for fresh meat.

Don't ask me where I got the nerve to do it, it almost ended in disaster, but in one of the canals there was a medium sized gator sunning itself high up on the bank. It wasn't the only gator in there and I'd heard more than one fight go on as they fought amongst themselves. The one on the bank looked like it had been the one sent packing. As I gathered wood I watched it make its way a couple of yards at a time heading for another section of what used to be wetlands. Suddenly I got in my head the picture of my father making alligator jerky and my mother canning stewed alligator. My mouth watered so much spit was running down my chin before I even knew it.

Even though I had Neeno in a sling and Nydia helping to pull the wagon for picking up wood I decided that it was worth it.

"Nydia, cover your hears." Her eyes grew wide when I pull the Keltec PF-9 out of my coat pocket. Normally I carried the LCP but that day I had put the Keltec because the LCP needed to be cleaned where I had dropped it in the sand the day before. I don't know if the LCP would have done what I wanted it to do but I knew the Keltec would because I had listened to Bea's brothers tell hunting stories and how they had a gator try and climb in their canoe one time. They had been jobbing – hunting frogs – and had a rifle and a .308 handgun; the rifle had gone overboard so all they were left with was the .308 and to make a long story short it took two shots to the head but the gator was history.

"Now, if it had been a big 'un over seven feet we wouldn't be here today but it was a shade over five feet and the .308 was enough."

Every time they told the story it got a little more harrowing and the gator got a "shade over" something bigger. Since the gator in front of me didn't measure quite five feet I figured I was safe. And since I didn't have to worry about it running at me since it was in slow mo because of the cold weather I figured if I missed with one shot I would certainly be able to get it with the next … or so I thought.

Boy did I feel stupid … scared first, stupid later … when I found out that adrenaline can overrule cold weather for at least a few moments. After one shot that gator all but flew at me. I squeaked like a girl and turned to run when out of the bushes came … well I really wasn't sure what they were at first. What they eventually resolved into being were two kids about the ages of 8 and 10 though it was hard to tell. They had bats in their hands and they went to wailing on that gator's head in a way that made me nearly sick.

When the gator was dead – and I knew it was dead since it did not have much of a head any more – they took one look at me and then grabbed the gator and started dragging it away.

"Hey!"

Then an older boy … a teen but I wasn't sure how old … stepped out and in front of the kids. "Does that belong to you?" he asked them sternly.

The kids got very disgruntled looks on their faces and then dropped the gator and stepped behind the teen. They started to walk away when something made me call them back, "Wait! Look, they did do most of the … um … work. Just … just leave me some and you can have the rest."

The teen looked at me suspiciously and the kids just looked at me blankly. "Why would you do that?" he asked.

I shrugged, "It seems like the right thing to do."

He looked at me and then out comes this huge knife. I stepped back in front of Nydia gripping the gun in my hand but the teen just steps over to the gator and starts to skin it. The two children are practically prancing from foot to foot in anticipation and that's when I got a good look at them. One was a boy and one was a girl, both were extremely dirty. Neither one had yet to make an intelligible sound, at least not one that I understood.

"You know, you should make your brother and sister wash up before they eat."

The teen briefly looked up at me and then looked over at the two kids before saying, "They aren't my sibs."

I asked, "Cousins? Friends?"

Still working on the carcass he said, "Naw. They just started following me around. I didn't have anything better to do so I let 'em."

"Do you know anything about them?" I asked alarmed, the former teacher in my kicking in hard.

"Our parents all died at one of the refgee camps in Virginia."

"Ref-gee?"

He looked at me again and rolled his eyes. "Ref-YOU-gee. It was one of those places they sent you when you didn't have any place else to go. Our parents went out on a work bus but never came back."

I must have made a sound because he shrugged again and said, "It happened. A lot." He shrugged again before saying, "When I decided to take off on my own and get out of that place before I got sent out on one of those buses that never came back they just sort of … followed me I guess."

"How long have you been on the road?"

"Long enough that we got ahead of the worst of the cold weather. Hey, you got something to put this in?"

I grabbed a couple of bags out of the wagon and handed them to him trying not to gag at the smell of the gator's tripes that he had carefully removed then thrown down into the canal where things were fighting over them.

"Where are you staying?" I found myself asking before I thought about it.

The teen got suddenly suspicious again. "Why do you want to know?"

This time I rolled my eyes. "Look, I used to be a teacher OK. It is second nature for me to … look, have you got a place to stay or not?"

"Oh," he said. The next he said not exactly disrespectfully but there was a lot of cynicism in there. "You're one of those."

"Excuse me? One of what?"

"A do-gooder. Just you worry about you and I'll take care of us."

His attitude made me want to smack his mouth but at the same time he reminded me of some of the kids I used to teach. They had their guard up so much of the time they were difficult to reach. The problem was that they had every reason to be suspicious and have their guard up.

I just kept looking at him and I guess some skills never die or the young man wasn't quite as hardened as he tried to appear. In short order he hunched his shoulders and said, "Look, my brother lives in Arcadia. Last I heard he was alive and that's where we're heading. My brother tried to spring me before but the people running the camp wouldn't turn loose of me. He said if I ever did get out I was to come straight to him and that's what I'm doing. He drew me a map and gave me directions and everything so I wouldn't get lost."

"Um … you … you know about the bomb, right?"

"Sure I know. Right after that is when my brother tried to spring me. That's why he gave me directions for how to get to him without going near where it came down."

I relaxed a little but not much. "And he'll take those two?"

"I figure he will. Him and his wife can't have kids. She's another do-gooder. I figure if nothing else she'll clean 'em up and find 'em a place to stay. Here's your part now we're going and you better not follow us," he said trying to sound menacing and only partially succeeding.

"Wait! Do you have water? And …"

"Lady, just leave us alone. We've taken care of ourselves this far and I don't want no one telling me what to do. I'm not stupid you know."

A part of me wanted to do something, anything, for those three kids but I couldn't think what. "Hey!"

"What?!" he nearly snarled.

"Look, have … have you seen anyone else? Any other people?"

His attitude shrunk a little bit. "A few. Not many. And none you'd want to meet. Have … have you seen anybody?"

"No," I answered quietly. "It's been … months. You're the first in … in a long, long time. Have you seen anyone in uniform?"

"You mean like the military or cops or something? Yeah, but not up close. No way do I want to be put in another camp. Now we're leaving and that's all you need to know."

I watched the three of them disappear into the bushes and trees that bordered the burnt area and then looked down as Nydia came up and put her hand in mine that wasn't holding the Keltec. "Don't ever leave Nonny." Just four words, quietly spoken but it let me know that Nydia was perhaps more perceptive than I gave her credit for being at her age. She understood that I was the one that stood between her and the fate those children had been dealt. Why God allows such things to happen I don't know but I prayed thankfully that He had allowed me to continue to watch over my children.

The walk back to the house was quiet and as soon as we got there I cleaned and started cooking the gator meat. It had been inexpertly cut but all in all I realized I would probably have done just as badly a job as the boy had done. Some of the meat I fried but the rest of it we couldn't eat in one meal I smoked on the grill and a couple of thin filets I experimented with turning into jerky. Since the weather was still so cool that is all that I would need to make the meat last a couple of more days without refrigeration and if I could figure out how to kill the gators more efficiently without squeaking and running I figured a couple of them would go a long way to replacing the animal protein that was quickly disappearing again from our food stores.

Two weeks later I looked with satisfaction at the newly filled jars on the shelves. Most of them were from the two gators that I was able to kill … this time with a rifle that had a scope which meant I could do it from farther away … but there was also some rabbit and squirrel there as well. I'd almost had a raccoon but it had snarled and snapped so bad that I finally just stuck a canvas laundry sack on the end of the live capture cage and then carefully carted the mean thing off towards the canal where I knew more gators were. Maybe I was being spiteful but it had scared me and I didn't want anything that ferocious near the house. I spun the bag around then slung the open end so that the raccoon became airborne for a few minutes before falling into the canal where it began to frantically claw its way to shore. I left before seeing whether it made it or not but I haven't seen it back around the house.

The meat wasn't the only new things on our pantry shelves. My covered gardens were actually doing quite well, well enough in fact that I harvested more than we could eat fresh. The beets came in like gang busters though they were a little smaller than any I had ever planted before. All of the various green things did quite well too. Nydia and I ate a salad of some type at every meal, including breakfast, and they were very welcome both for their roughage and for their vitamins provided by their dark leafy green goodness. The eggplants were OK but I had to slice and fry them before either Nydia or I could really stomach them otherwise they just seemed slimy. I wished I had planted more carrots as well as they did. They were much longer and thicker than the ones that I had planted in containers the year before.

One of the best things though was that the tomatoes started coming in. I hadn't really known what I was planting where so they were all mixed up together which was actually OK. Black Krim, Bloody Butcher, Mexican Midget, and more all with the strange names that some vegetable varieties had … they were all heirloom seeds and I had used a paint brush to pollinate them which meant that my crop was even bigger than if I had just left them to the wind and the insects. Towards the end of the month my peppers, cucumbers, and beans started coming in. And on the very last day of the month I actually harvested a couple of watermelons much to Nydia's delight; and mine too I must admit.

I dried what I could but I also managed to can some things by taking an old metal barrel I found and fabricating a kind of Franklin stove from it. That meant that I could use the pressure canner though it really needed watching closely so I could open and close the dampers so that it didn't get too hot and from there build up too much pressure inside the canner. I still had nearly a case of canning seals but they wouldn't last forever so I mainly used them on soups and stews and on the tomatoes.

Again that month the wild things that I was used to foraging for didn't produce but I did manage to get a goodly number of limes and about a gallon of mysore raspberries. The raspberries were very welcome but the limes had me dancing a jig. One of the things that stuck in my head after reading a story to Nydia was the idea of scurvy. When I looked it up in a couple of the medical books that had belonged to my parents I realized that it wasn't as unheard of as I had believed. The limes would go a long way to helping to stave that illness off, especially for Nydia whom I sometimes worried wasn't getting enough nutrition.

Neeno was over six months old and still nursed exclusively much to both my consternation and relief. I knew what I needed to do I just wasn't sure when to do it. I knew it was still too early to wean him but it would have to happen eventually. On the other hand, one of those books that Mateo had acquired only He knows how said that some children nursed into toddlerhood. Um … I wasn't quite sure if I would be able to manage that.

I almost don't remember the month of April I was so busy gardening, both planting and harvesting. The rains finally started to fall again and when the rains came so did the bugs as the air warmed but it was still more like November and December than truly spring which is what it was supposed to be. As it warmed I would lift the sides of the covered gardens during the day to let some of the heat out; my goal was to safe guard against the cold, not cook the plants where they stood.

I was so busy in fact that I had to let some things slide and one of the things that I didn't do was cut the grass in the front yard. I would enter the tree huts and pull the few weeds that dared to show their green faces there but once it warmed up enough that it stopped leaving frost on the ground and then the rains started to fall it was like someone had hit the on switch. I left the doors of the fruit huts cracked during the day so that the bees and wasps could get out and not roast and at night I closed them back up, both to protect "my" insects and to safeguard the trees they lived in. By the end of April the grass was up and well passed my knees. There were also several weedy bushes growing up in the mess and since I hadn't raked or swept the leaves from the drive way in some time the entire front of the house looked quite abandoned from the road. Another tree had fallen across the road as well and its dead and dying top blocked the gate though it hadn't damaged it any. As a result I simply left by a break in the fence in the back yard that I had cut that wound behind several houses including old Mr. Houchins' place. The road didn't mean much to me any longer as I had my own paths that I took that were shortcuts to where I needed to go.

The children and I had been out all day picking up wood and had actually had to take refuge in the old Houchins place to wait out one of the frequent thunderstorms … another sign that the weather was completely out of whack. We finally made our way home but the children were both extremely tired and as a result very quiet. I thought I had heard something but the wind kept whipping the sound away. I was to the back door when I realized it was crying.

My first thought had me flying back to my memories of those kids that I had not seen since they disappeared. I took Neeno's sling off and handed him to Nydia and pushed them both in the house.

"Nonny … don't," Nydia said pleadingly after she too had heard the crying. "It's … it's the boogerman."

"Boogeymen don't cry love, at least not like that. Now I want you to stay here in the house. You know what to do."

I didn't give her time to object further and she did know what to do as we had gone over it numerous times. She was to go to the bedroom and stay there until I got her and to open the door for no one but me.

I took the rifle and carefully made my way around the house. The sound was coming from just on the other side of the gate and front wall. It was going from crying to wailing. There was another voice but I couldn't tell what they were saying. Dusk was setting and the crying continued. I couldn't stand it, the sound was heartbreaking … and perhaps a little mad as well. No one sane could keep up that level of grief for long.

I nipped back through the cut in the fence and then made my way around to where I could see who it was before they saw me. There were two people sitting on the ground. I thought it was a couple at first until I realized they were both men. The one that was wailing was rocking and pulling his hair and the other … he'd lost his leg below the knee and looked in little better shape though a sight saner than the other one. I saw no guns but I did see what looked to be a spear and a couple of machetes. Neither man had had a haircut in who knows how long and they were dirty though not filthy, a detail that I found a little reassuring for some reason.

I cleared my throat and then a second time when neither man reacted to the first. The second time they did hear, boy did they hear. The man with the amputation tried to move quickly but I could tell he was very weak as he fell back cracking his head on the wall. The other man stopped his noise and then just stared at me. I looked at the two of them. They were emaciated and both had seen recent and prolonged depravations. Their clothes, such as they were, hung from them in little more than tatters tied together more for warmth than for modesty. Then as I continued to stare the breath started to leave my body.

A voice I never hoped to hear again said in raspy, sepulcher tones, "Mi corazón, mi vida, la respiración en mi cuerpo, you have come … come to take me to Heaven to be with you …. Forgive me … please forgive me. I have been searching for so long. Finally we have found each other again."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Part 9: To Learn Again the Old Songs**_

 _Who, day and night, must scramble for a living,  
Feed a wife and children, say his daily prayers?  
And who has the right, as master of the house,  
To have the final word at home?_

 _Who must know the way to make a proper home,_  
 _A quiet home, a kosher home?_  
 _Who must raise the family and run the home,_  
 _So Papa's free to read the holy books?_

As I continued to just stand there Mateo started to come apart again, "No … no … you must be here; we must be together again. Leah, my Leah. No … no … no …" Then he started crawling towards me.

The other man, the amputee, grabbed him and held fast. In gritty tones that were closer to what I remembered them being than Mateo's cracked voice was Greg said, "It's Leah all right … but maybe you ain't noticed that she's got a gun aimed at us."

"Leah?" Mateo asked pathetically. "Are you still my Leah? Are you real?"

I finally found my own voice and said, "I swear, if you are an illusion ... if I've finally cracked … you are going to be in so much hot water."

Greg snorted but Mateo, still obviously not completely connected to reality, crawled over and placed his head into my lap as I lowered the rifle and bent down. "I can now die in peace."

I shook him close to having my own mental breakdown. "Don't you dare die! Not now." I looked over at Greg who was staring at me as if he too wasn't sure if I were real. "Greg?"

"Yeah. It's me. Guess we both look some different since the last time you saw us."

A dry click was the only sound my throat would make for a moment. Then I managed to swallow and said, "More than likely rain will come again soon, the air still feels like it anyway. We need to get you two into the house but we'll have to walk around to the back. Can you make it?"

He said, "You mean the leg? I've made it this far haven't I?"

"How far is far?" I asked as a deep rumble could be heard off in the distance. Mateo twitched at the sound but Greg didn't have a chance to answer; big, fat rain drops began to fall threatening to drench all of us. Using the spear as a crutch Greg followed me as I hurriedly led a still mentally dysfunctional Mateo around and into the lanai. He kept muttering under his breath about finally being allowed his day of judgment and that we'd be together again in Heaven.

Once we got to the patio Greg stopped for a moment until I snapped, "Please don't start that old stuff again. It is still too cool and certainly too wet for you to sleep outside and if the pattern is what it has been the rain will be coming down so hard in a few minutes that you won't be able to breathe."

I got both men inside and in front of the fire where they shivered and jerked using precious energy they didn't have to spare as their bodies tried to warm. Neither man had what looked like any body fat on them a far sight different from when they had been taken from me. Mateo panicked for a moment when I tried to step away but I told him that I had to check on the children. "Of course! Of course! They're in Heaven too. Let them know I'm coming."

I shook my head in shock and near tears though I was still managing. In all the ways I had ever imagined Mateo coming home or us meeting again nothing like this even came under consideration. Mateo had always been so strong. It nearly terrified me to think what he could have experienced to break him like this. I rushed to the bedroom and Nydia flew into my arms. I hugged her tightly. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to tell her that Poppy had come home but I couldn't see how it would do her any good to see the condition he was currently in.

But in the end I couldn't lie either. I explained the best I could but added, "Darling, Poppy is … not feeling well. He … he doesn't even quite look like himself."

She was not ready to believe me, "Then how do you know it's him. It could be the boogerman dressed up like Poppy."

"No Sweetie, I know the difference. But … but … he's … it's not just …" I stopped on a sigh. "Nydia, I don't know how to explain it exactly. It is Poppy, it truly is … and the other man is his friend Greg … but they've both … they've both been through a lot. I don't think they've had anyone to take care of them like we've been taking care of each other."

That clicked for her I think bringing to mind the children we had met. Peering through a crack in the door and then looking back at me, "God was supposed to take care of him."

"He did Sweets. He guided him back to us. But … but I think there were people that didn't want him to make it and maybe he saw some terrible things. He's … he's fragile and not … not thinking right. Please don't let it scare you. It is … it is just going to take time to fix him up. OK?"

And time it did take. For nearly a week both men did little more than sleep and eat. I started them on a very bland, liquid diet of watered down vegetable broth but even that was too much that first day; I should have started with a little rehydration fluid of a little sugar and salt. When they did manage to start holding down the broth I added garlic and greens to it though I strained it out before serving them. Eventually I left the bits of garlic and greens in there and once I was sure they could keep that down without any harm I started giving them soft foods by grinding cooked vegetables using the old baby food grinder I still had from when Nydia was an infant.

I cleaned them both up as far as they would let me; Greg eventually climbed into a tub of water himself but I had to take care of Mateo nearly as much as I did Neeno. The initial few days if Mateo woke and I wasn't there he would get upset all over again though he never quite made it to the wailing stage as he had outside the gate. The first time he did this it frightened Nydia so much she almost refused to go near him again; but, once it penetrated that I hadn't gone far or so long as he could see Nydia, he was calm or at least calm long enough to allow me to complete whatever task I was doing.

After Nydia got over her fright she decided that she had to take care of Mateo. I also caught her trying to tell him about everything that had happened while he was gone. I'm not sure how much he took in, it was mostly the sound of her voice and her animated company that seemed to captivate him. She was the one that he first allowed to try and brush his hair and when the long stuff proved stubborn he allowed her to cut out the worst tangles that looked a bit like dreadlocks. I was horrified to realize that both Mateo and Greg had fleas and more than a couple of ticks and took all of one day to rewash all of the bedding and anything they had come in contact with as well as making them both soak in a medicated bath in front of the fire. Nydia was also the one that Mateo allowed to trim his nails back so they didn't look like ragged, dirty claws at the ends of his almost skeletal hands. She got him to wear some of his old casual clothes though they hung on him so much they looked like they came out of a charity barrel rather than out of his own closet. Greg was far less cooperative but eventually Nydia teased him into letting her play nurse on him as well.

As Mateo … well improved isn't the word I would use … as Mateo stabilized, Greg seemed to deteriorate in direct proportion. He only ate because I nagged him to. He wouldn't let me look at his stump to see if there was infection, but if there was there wasn't any signs that I could see … no odor, no ooze … so I decided to pick my battles. Eventually I pestered him in to sitting outside for a while each day hoping the sunshine and fresh air would wake him up. It didn't help but it didn't hurt either. It also gave me time to find out what had occurred after the last time we had seen each other.

"Got caught in the same net as some scavengers we were battling with when I turned my ankle; guess I wasn't as young as I wanted to pretend to be. Was sent to a UN prison camp by the Blue Hats that caught us; stinking pigs. Literally hell on earth is the only way to describe that place; it definitely wasn't being run by American standards. Oh there were a few that tried to do things humanely but most of 'em were too angry about being stationed where they were to do much more than take it out on the population in the camp. Don't even know how long I was there, days started to all run together. Was starting to lose it when the bomb was dropped. There was a quick evac of the camp – honestly surprised they thought to do anything for us since we were considered criminals and infidels for the most part – and the group I was in was marched to a civilian detention facility, this one being run by the Florida National Guard. One of the guards there turned out to be Mateo." He sighed and shifted, obviously still in some pain. "He was still the man he used to be then, maybe even a better man as what he'd seen had hardened him, toughened him up, but it hadn't broken him like it had some. Things started falling apart at the camp not long after the group I was with arrived. Supplies were low and then a fever of some type went through both the prisoners and the guardsmen populations. Things went from bad to worse and then they eventually shipped those of us still living way down to South Florida. It was by train and all I could think of was the Jews being taken to the death camps during WW2. I was right, it wasn't no better down there though I don't think it was on purpose so much as there just wasn't a lot of anything to go around. Food was short, weather was changing, people were dying from lack of simple nutrition and basic medical care. Too many people living in too small of an area and most too scared to leave knowing that they didn't have the skills to make it in the world without help. Then another small bomb was run ashore near the camp we were in and everybody panicked, and not just the civilians either. Mateo and I hooked up and then we ran … he'd gotten into some trouble trying to get me sprung and had been on disciplinary hold … eventually running into a military unit that let us tag along."

I could tell he was tired so I made him drink a mug of broth and a cup of juice. He snorted but still nodded in appreciation before continuing. "What you gotta understand Leah is … Matt never quit thinking of you and Nydia … nor the baby either though I'm not sure what he felt about it. I could see him getting' all wound up the closer you got to when it was supposed to arrive and then … he just … he just had to click it off and wouldn't talk about that part very much. We stayed hooked up with that military unit until we got close to where that friend of yours lives … that Bea. Talk about a pistol."

"Bea … she's still …?"

"Alive? Yup … and then some. That girl has some vinegar going through her veins I'll give her that. It took us a while to find them but Matt, he wouldn't give up. He was totally convinced that you'd be there with them. Wouldn't let himself believe anything else. Couldn't seem to bring himself to believe anything else. When we finally got there and you weren't there. I swear I heard something break inside him." He finished drinking what I'd given him and then eased back against the chair cushion like he wasn't quite used to that kind of comfort and wasn't sure he liked it. "The only reason we ran up on 'em is that there was this fight see … between the people already living in the swamp area and folks that were flooding the place escaping from the cities. Mateo and I both were shot when we got caught betwixt 'em. Matt not so bad, me …" He pointed to the missing part of his leg. "Matt ran into one of Bea's brothers and he got us out of there and took us to their place. Bea nursed us and Matt did what he could to pay 'em back. He wanted to leave but the weather kept getting colder and Bea asked him if he wanted to die on the road or did he want to finish healing so that he could go find you. We waited as long as he could stand to but about the beginning of March he couldn't – or wouldn't – be put off anymore."

I gave him some space to get his thoughts together. It wasn't a story that could be pushed. He was staring off into space and I couldn't tell if the story hurt him or not. Finally he nodded and continued.

"We couldn't exactly travel fast, either one of us. Several times I told Matt to go on without me but he wouldn't leave me. I'll admit it would have been a death sentence; scavengers would have had my bones picked clean in a pair of seconds, and turned out it was a good thing we stuck together. We must have been the only thing moving north towards Tampa. I swear it was like swimming upstream at times. Waves of people were heading south trying to escape the cold weather. Food was scarce and what little bit we had was stolen from us more than once."

"No guns?"

"Stolen … by the military if you can believe that. Or at least that's what they claimed to be. Fed us a meal and then kicked us to the curb. We took the machetes off a couple of corpses we run across. Used 'em to make me a new crutch. It cracked and broke right before we come up to your gate which was why I was using the spear."

"What have you been doing for two months on the road? It took you two months to walk that distance?"

"Remember I said we couldn't travel far with my leg. We'll we weren't exactly eating much neither. You have any idea how good you've got it? I ain't never seen nothing like them things you've got back here. And them things you've built over the trees? Those ideas come to you in a dream?"

"Out of a book. And God blessed me with the means to do what I wanted once I started working towards the goal. And He got you here as well but even with your injuries … didn't someone give you a lift? Two injured men on the road …"

"Leah, I'm tellin' you there ain't too many folks around this part of Florida. And those that are around are bad off. They've got enough trouble keeping they's own selves up outta the dirt much less picking up a couple of scraggly men they don't know but might be scavengers or criminals or carrying sickness. We ran into another Guardsmen unit right around Port Charlotte and they kept trying to warn us off everything between the Gulf and Port Charlotte, Dundee, and Spring Hill … like a giant sea monster had taken a bite out of the west coast of central Florida. Kept saying anything left in that area was dead or dyin'. Matt near caved in on himself until this red-headed boy comes along and says that ain't strictly true and starts telling this story about this woman living on her own outside of Tampa in this big ol' house. 'Nother one says that ain't nothing but a tall tale to give people hope and him and the red head almost get into it until this big man comes along and tells 'em to knock it before he knocks the two of them off. Matt then goes to talk to the red head for a little while that night and came back swearing up and down that it had to be you. I kept trying to tell him that he shouldn't get his hopes up but you know Matt when he's got the bit in his mouth. We had to be real careful with food and water, not that there was much of either. The way things looked and how there weren't no people … it started to unhinge us both a bit but we were holding on. Ceptin' when we got here and thought … well Matt just finally lost it."

"You mean he was OK until he got here?"

"OK? Naw, neither one of us been OK for a long time but he was holdin' it together. I swear I was sure you was a ghost when I first saw you myself. I still ain't too sure I ain't trippin'."

I stood up, my compost bucket full, and told him, "Well I'm sure. You're here and now that I've heard your story I want to know why you've come this far and suddenly given up?"

"Wha ..?!" he starts, trying to act all innocent.

I gave him look for look when he finally said, "All right. You want to know woman? I've lived through being at the bottom of the barrel before and I swore to myself I'd never go there again. I don't want to go back to being that person, living that way, walking around like … well like you just never mind 'cause you wouldn't understand. I could say I don't understand why you haven't given up. Look around you. What is there left worth living for?!"

"Well ain't you funny," I told him reverting to my parents' way of talking when we were home alone. "After that story you just told me? After telling me how lucky I am? And you got the nerve to say there ain't nothin' to livin' for. You got rocks in yore head boy?"

I'd caught him off guard. "Yes, I'm talking to you, you irritating, contrary, stubborn … kind, generous, and faithful friend. Greg, I don't know if Mateo would have made it this far if the two of you hadn't had each other to lean on. But you're here now, in a place I'm not just giving you but that you've purely earned. And there is food for your belly and a fire to warm you … and a child that has started to call you Uncle Greg and another that will as soon as he learns to talk. If you hadn't helped me, taught me, looked after me in the beginning I'm not sure I would have been in a place to come as far as I have. I know you are the kind that doesn't like the idea of owing or being owed so let's call it a chance to simply create a partnership. You're family as far as I'm concerned. If you can't hack the idea of staying in one place forever at least stay long enough to heal and get your bearings. Please. Give it a try, at least for a while." You know you can talk to some people until you are blue in the face, have the best of intentions, even love them, but if they aren't willing they just aren't willing. Sometimes people break in ways that you can't see and that can't be fixed.

The rain continued to come down off and on every day. The swamp was as deep as I had ever seen it, well above the old high water marks on the cypress trees. The ponds filled up. The canals were close to being full and water stood in odd places everywhere I went to collect wood. Mateo tried to come with me once but the utter destruction of the neighborhood – so out of sync with his memories – and getting wet in a short downpour left him so weak in mind and body that I had a difficult time getting him to wake up enough to eat his supper later in the day. I worried that if the rains continued this pattern for much longer we'd be dealing with flooding of Biblical proportions but thus far our yard stayed high and dry and the pond collected most of it and then overflowed back into the swamp. I didn't know how long that would last and I worried about our septic drain field. I worried about my garden as well but where the covers had protected the plants from the cold before, now they protected them from simply being beat into the ground by the rain.

The beginning of the third week Mateo started coming around. He was lucid a full ninety percent of the time though he still watched us all with hungry eyes. Greg and he would talk a lot though I was never really privy to what they said. I don't know if they were falling back into their pattern of trying to protect me from everything or if it was simply habit from their months of survival and avoidance of other people that might try and stop them or do them harm. Not that I believed they thought I would do them harm; in truth I believe that they underestimated me. Since we hadn't really discussed how I had survived – I was not sure Mateo was ready to talk about it then – they didn't know how strong I could be, how strong I was.

As it was they sat around all but goggling at the amount of work I did each day and kept trying to make each task easier with their suggestions. They tried to rework the chore list, reorder my schedule, and tell me I was doing things that could be let go 'til later or not doing things that needed to be prioritized and done now. They even came outside to "help" in the garden though I had to undo almost half of what they did. Both men were still weak, unbelievably so, but that didn't change them from trying to take charge. They tired easily and still slept a lot but not nearly as much as the first week and as a consequence were underfoot all the more for it. I could do my chores without Mateo breaking out in a cold sweat because he didn't have me in visual contact but that didn't mean I could count on him not scheming to figure out some way to spend every waking moment in my company.

Eventually though he was less frantic about it, less obsessed, and his face no longer looked like a paranoid's death mask. Finally, both he and Greg submitted to letting me cut their hair and trim their beards. Nydia had cut great chunks out already and it was a challenge to do the job properly without leaving them looking like badly sheared sheep.

Then the day came that I heard a beautiful sound. Nydia was "entertaining the men" and was singing for them some songs that I had taught her all the while doing a little dance she made up. Mateo was holding Neeno watching with all of his might. It was strange, Neeno had taken to Mateo faster than Mateo was connecting with his son. I continued to give him time and my patience and it was working. Mateo was learning to believe in the reality around him and not just in the desires that he had built up in his head. Nydia was really going to town, putting her whole heart into it and when she was finished Neeno laughed out loud … really laughed, one of those baby giggles that is infectious. Then Nydia laughed at Neeno's laugh and then the two men for whatever reason couldn't hold back laugher of their own. Oh I was so happy. I could see Mateo healing before my eyes, not just physically but mentally.

Dinner that night was a good one. I had caught a duck – nasty, cranky thing – with an old fishing net I had found, wrung its neck, then cleaned and roasted it. It wasn't a big duck but it was big enough that we could all get a taste and I saved all of the fat to be used later. After dinner I changed out of my regular apron all the time to protect my clothes and into the heavy plastic one that I wore to clean the kitchen with and then after I was done and as it became night time I changed back but immediately noticed that something was wrong. The LCP was gone from the apron's pocket. I rushed into the family room but the children didn't have it. I opened my mouth to cautiously ask Mateo if he had seen it when I noticed Greg was not in the room. At that same moment there was a loud and echoing "pop" from the backyard and I told Nydia to stay there with the baby until I said otherwise and then I flew out the back door.

It was already getting dark behind the barn and I nearly tripped over him. It was light enough however to see his face when I really looked and the bile rose immediately in my throat. I nearly screamed when a hand went across my mouth.

"Don't look Leah. Now swallow … swallow I say. Breathe … breathe … breathe. Now can you keep it down?"

I nodded and he removed his hand from my mouth. I realized that Mateo … my Mateo, not the broken man that I had found at the gate … was back.

"Go in the house." When I tried to turn and object he said more forcefully, "Go in the house Leah. I … I will tend to this."

Lord help me I took the coward's way out and scurried back to the house. Butchering and dealing with animals' remains was one thing, dealing with … with what was left of Greg was quite another. Mateo was outside for some time. When he came back in he dropped the security door and then turned to find me rocking the children both of whom were asleep. I looked at him and he came over to lift Neeno then stopped. "I am … dirty. I will wash up while you put the children to bed."

I was tucking them both in when Nydia woke up and said, "Did Uncle Greg go to Heaven?"

I looked helplessly at Mateo who had just returned to the room and told her, "Yes."

Her little eyes were too old for her face as she said, "Oh." Then she started to panic. "Poppy … Nonny … you can't go … don't leave me …"

"Hush," I told her gently but firmly. "Poppy and I are right here. We're right here Love."

It was but a moment before she fell back to sleep. I'm not sure if it was force of habit or what but I turned and buried my face in Mateo's chest, seeking his strength. I don't know how but he found strength to give me. He wrapped his arms around me and we rocked each other while the embers in the fireplace died low, sharing our strength back and forth until I couldn't tell where his began and mine ended.

"Why? I thought he was doing better? I thought …He seemed …" I shuddered unable to finish the sentence because to say it was to admit that I was wrong. So wrong in fact that Greg could get my gun and shoot himself in the head rather than to stay with us. Was I then wrong about Mateo as well? I jittered in fear at the very thought.

"Shhhh. It isn't your fault. Greg … for lack of better words to say it with … Greg made his choice. I don't know why so we will have to let God deal with that. I won't let him or his memory … for all that I'd come to love him as a brother … contaminate this place, us, what we have. He knew he had a place to stay as long as he wanted. I told him and he told me you said the same thing. I learned long ago that trying to change some people's minds is like trying to hold the wind. It was hard to see unless you knew where to look, but Greg ran scared most of his life. He had reason to for a while, he was in a very bad place and was a broken man, but once he escaped that bit of his past he seemed to put everything he had into running from something. Remember that cloak and dagger act with the conspiracy theories? And then fighting what he thought was a losing war he was too afraid not to fight in." Mateo shook his head sadly. "We need to rest." I wanted to object but one look at his face and I realized Mateo was nearing collapse again. We lay down together, the first time we had slept so close since he had come back.

Sometimes the why's in life are never answered. In the days that followed Mateo slowly regained his strength. There were times when shame would almost overwhelm him due to his physical weakness and finally I put my foot down and told him that he would not ruin his health by trying to get stronger too fast.

"You are bossier than you used to be mi Corazon," he said one evening as we sat and talked after the children fell asleep.

Upset a bit I said, "I don't mean to be bossy. I suppose I've gone too long having my own way and being the only one that I could count on." When Mateo winced I quickly told him, "That wasn't your fault and if you'll use sense you'd know it. Maybe I needed to go through it – some of it anyway – so that I know that I can stand on my own two feet if necessary. I'd never really had to do that before, for a while there I wasn't sure that I could. Give me some time to get used to having you around to count on again. I'll try and not baby you too much, I know you don't like it, but I'm just so glad that you are home and I want you to do everything to get well, whatever that takes."

He got a decidedly male grin on his face, something else that had been returning slowly but apparently surely, "You make me feel like anything is possible."

"Anything?" I whispered.

After a brief hesitation he said, "Perhaps … perhaps not anything, at least not tonight. But soon Leah … soon."

The truth of it was that I had gotten used to being my own boss and it was a little difficult … ok, more than a little … to stop being the boss. I was accountable to no one but God and myself and perhaps I had grown a bit arrogant. Mateo wasn't a child and it wasn't right that I talk to him like I would talk to Nydia. He was a man, I needed to treat him as one; even if he was weak, and recovering, and not quite understanding or able to appreciate all of the effort and pain and work that I'd put into keeping us alive all of these months without him.

As I went over my feelings I realized that I had a little anger in there that I hadn't realized; perhaps more than a little. With the realization didn't come total understanding but at least I was seeing a little more clearly. None of what I went through was Mateo's fault, I really did believe that … do believe that. I was never a fatalist but neither was I one of those drama queens always bemoaning my life and doing nothing about it. I knew I couldn't force Mateo to stop trying to shove me back into the same mold I had been in before. To make it work and stick – these new strengths and weaknesses that we both had – I would have to show him and get him to work in partner with me.

I started by asking him if he was feeling up to going over what I had done over the time he had been away. I told him I hadn't wanted to bother him with it before but I'd had no adult to talk to and I trusted him to help me clear my head. I could see his reluctance and it hurt a bit but regardless of how he felt he agreed that it was time.

We talked almost through the entire night and then almost the entire next day as well. I couldn't have done any work outside anyway because of the horrible storm we had but at the end I was as exhausted as if I had been working without break for days. Mateo was simply overwhelmed and shut down for a while. I left him sitting near the fire while the children played … Neeno had begun to pull himself up and creep from place to place holding on to things which meant putting him in Nydia's old play yard for safety's sake. I on the other hand had no choice but to get up and prepare a meal. I was nearly falling asleep watching the stew pot on the fire when I felt someone come sit by me. My first thought was Nydia and I jerked awake not wanting to chance her getting burned trying to help but it was Mateo.

"I am capable of doing this small thing Leah," he said in a tone of voice that let me know he was trying to hide his hurt that I would assume he was so incompetent he could do it.

Ignoring his near petulance I said, "Sorry, I thought you were Nydia. She sometimes wants to stir the pot but I always worry she'll burn herself."

"I'm not Nydia."

"No, you're not. And if you truly don't mind keeping an eye on it, I need to go wash my face."

I got up and did what I needed to do and then on my way back through the kitchen I picked up the bowls and silverware and brought them with me. The stew was quickly ladled out and we ate though my appetite wasn't good.

"You are upset," Mateo said.

"I'm just rung out. It happens. I can go a long time unless I sit down and start worrying at it – not that we didn't need to talk – but … it does take a lot of energy to go through it all again. I haven't even started to show you the planting and harvesting calendar I have made up, the inventory … I don't even know if you've been in the pantry and garage to look at how things stand."

He sighed, "I saw the gator hides in the barn when I was looking for a shovel to … to deal with Greg's remains. They didn't register. They should have."

I shook my head, "You had other things on your mind at the time."

"But I do not now. I must stop burying my head in the sand. I knew that … logic told me that … Oh my Leah, mi Corazon." He put his arms around me. "I knew that it would have been difficult for you, I simply was running from how difficult. And to see that … bah!"

"Bah is the sound that sheep make and I don't speak sheep. What has you so upset of a sudden?"

He snorted an unwilling chuckle. "You will think me crazy but the truth is it … upsets me … to think you've been able to do so well without me."

This time I snorted in a very unladylike way. "Oh please, look who is talking. Mister I was shot, got sick, and walked hundreds of miles with the only intent to get back to my wife and children. Unlike you I had food in my stomach and a roof over my head every single day. I could not have done that I don't think."

"Oh no, you only had our son by yourself in the middle of a nuclear disaster which you also managed to survive without my help," Mateo said while rolling his eyes.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. He looked at me affronted for a moment then joined in though more quietly. "Listen to us," he said shaking his head. "But truthfully Leah, from here on out I do not want you to bear so much of it alone. I would like to look at your inventory and your pantry."

"Not mine, ours. The inventory is the one we started together at the beginning of all of this, I just continued it. And the house was yours to begin with so don't even go there either. Um, you do realize we still haven't named our son?"

"What? I assumed …"

"Assumed what? Besides, you know what assuming will get you," I answered him cheekily because I was so embarrassed. "I just couldn't do it, not without you. Neeno is what Nydia called him in the very beginning and we've called him that so long that it will probably always be our pet name for him; but he really does need a proper one. I don't want him coming to me when he is sixteen years old and turning into a man and asking me why he did doesn't have a real name."

Mateo sat down heavily at the table and just looked at me. The longer he looked the more upset and embarrassed I became. I started to turn away when he jumped to his feet and then he grabbed me and bent me backwards. His voice was all husky when he asked, "You … you will let me name our son? Even though I was not here?"

Not quite recovered from the sudden change in direction the conversation had taken I said, "I already told you I couldn't bring myself to name him without you."

He hugged me to him and kissed me and said, "Mi Corazon, mi vida …" and lots of other Spanish nonsense that Mateo tended to say to make my toes curl. He finally stopped and then looked at me and smiled. "This thing … this naming of the first born son … it is a very big deal in my family … was a big deal. As they said in that movie you like – Fiddler on the Roof – 'Tradition!' Not from my mother's side but from my father's."

"Well …," I said still trying to control the shivers his nonsense always caused. "Then let's not break tradition."

"Very well," he grinned. After a moment, one in which I finally managed to regain my composure, he said, "Michael for my father and Benjamin for yours. Michael Benjamin Jakob. Do you like it mi Tesoro?" I showed him how well I liked it by entering it into the family Bible that had been handed down to me from my parents.

That was a turning point. We started to work together again. Mateo was at a bit of a loss trying to find his place in things but we were both trying which helped immensely. It certainly didn't hurt that May was fantastically busy. I filled … we filled … the raised beds that I hadn't been able to before using dirt dug from old flower beds around the neighborhood and the compost from the rotating barrels in the barn. In these we planted more beans of all types, cantaloupes, sweet potatoes, summer squash, peanuts, peppers, and squash. It was normally the time that I should have planted okra and black eyed peas as well but the weather was much too cool for them to germinate properly. It was almost like we couldn't get out of spring. The highs during the day would sometimes get up to seventy-five degrees but the lows at night could still dip into the forties. It had to have been lifetimes since Florida had experienced such whether this late in the season.

Everyday saw us bring at least a bushel basket of fresh food in. Mateo was stunned, hardly knowing what to pick for dinner since it all looked so good, while I was just happy to be able to preserve more food for the time I knew was coming when we would be without again. Despite the largesse I had to be very careful with our food. Adding an adult male shrank the amount of time that our food would last by more than a third. I made my portion size smaller or did without but Mateo soon realized what I was doing and pitched a royal, male, very Hispanic fit. It had been so long since I'd seen how very macho he could get that I was actually rather … dare I say it … attracted. No, I wasn't a glutton for punishment nor would I risk setting him off like that on purpose but there is something about the male of the species simply being completely and totally male that is alluring. I know some women can get it all turned around and fall into the trap of picking the wrong type of man because of this but I on the other hand had the right kind and it was nice to be reminded of it even if it wasn't in the most pleasant of displays. Call me crazy but I found myself paying more attention to my own appearance which actually made me feel better. It didn't hurt that when I came out of the bathroom that night with my hair done and one of my nicest bed gowns that Mateo took several tries before he could say anything.

"You'll get cold in that … that … er …"

Giving him a smile I said, "No I won't."

If Mateo had the energy to throw a completely male fit I certainly had the energy to stun him by being completely female. It took a bit of work for us both to get totally comfortable with the closeness again regardless of our desires but it was … hmmm … a bit like riding a bike I guess you would say; all it took was some practice. And we certainly practiced and found it enjoyable as a husband and wife should be able to do. We were however careful of the timing. As much as I love Neeno … and Nydia … I am in no way ready to be pregnant again and have another child. I know they say you forget the pain of childbirth as soon as you hold your baby in your arms but in my experience that was a bit of an exaggeration. I had no trouble remembering the pain though I do admit that it had all been worth it.

Despite the work I didn't just plant vegetables around the yard. In the protection of the tree huts I planted sunflowers but then had to cover them with chicken wire when squirrels and rabbits found them. I also tried to plant some edible flowers with limited success. Begonias and Calendula did well but carnations not at all. The chrysanthemums did well since they never had to deal with the worst of the summer heat like they normally did by this time. The clover I planted in the neighboring yards spread faster than I expected, probably because the sand stayed a little damp since we were still getting regular rains. Daylilies and Sorrel did very well but the daylily buds also attracted other animals that tended to bend them over and ruin just as many as I harvested. The Hibiscus, even with me covering it with a pod to keep the cold temperatures from hurting it, didn't look like it was going to bloom this year as it is more of a tropical. Common old geraniums did well and even grew in pots in the house but my roses suffered from black spot because of all of the dampness.

The herbs and such were doing well and I had no trouble seasoning our foods or making teas. The coffee had long ago run out and Mateo said he did not miss it. As thin as he still was I was glad I didn't have to worry about his body trying to metabolize that much caffeine. My window box of violets brought color into the house but it didn't look like I would be getting any yucca this year. Mateo loved the stuff and I had learned to cook it especially for him; it made me sad to wonder what else we would have to give up if the weather never went back to what it was before.

One of the best things that happened that month and which caused me to jump around and giggle like a giddy child when I noticed was that the blackberries were blooming; they should have bloomed back in March but they never did. They were blooming two months late so I began to wonder if perhaps they would also bare fruit two months late and I noted it in my calendar with hope. My mother had made a tonic from blackberry juice and I was constantly on the watch for anything that I thought might be good to continue Mateo's healing and keep Nydia spritely.

I could have used the spritely as well. It was a lot of work keeping up with the garden, the house, the children, and Mateo. Mateo helped of course but he was still learning and was still not at full strength. The one load that Mateo did remove from my shoulders was the search for wood and cutting the bigger pieces. Though he was weaker than he used to be before he was taken away he was still taller with a longer reach and the big axe certainly worked better in his hands than in mine. Taking this one task one gave me more time in the garden, time I sorely needed. Nydia would go with Mateo when he took the wagon and showed him the different places that we usually went, the trees that dropped their limbs most often, and the trees to avoid because they were the ones that made bad smoke. Mateo was stunned at how much she knew.

"Sometimes I worry that I'm pushing her too hard," I told him, a little ashamed at how hard his little princess worked.

"Don't. Worry I mean. My mother told me stories of when she was a child. Her parents and grandparents were products of the Great Depression. The things she told me that she had heard … children younger than Nydia acting as delivery boys along the store roads, acting as dishwashers in family restaurants, cleaning hotel rooms, helping in the laundries for the wealthier people … they survived and so will Nydia. She was spoiled … we both had a hand in it … at least this way she has some skills to get her through life if this … this … situation remains as it is for decades to come."

There, it was finally on the table. The realization that our future may never hold more than what it was holding at that moment; work, the daily struggle for survival, the fact that we hadn't seen a soul since Mateo arrived.

"I would have thought that Capt. Tag would have been back by now," I muttered.

"You said that she did not promise," Mateo reminded me.

"No, she didn't promise. She even said she didn't know if or when but still, it just seems strange. She was my contact, such as it was, to the outside world. The radio doesn't bring anything but static any more. I don't know if it is because it was damaged or if there is simply no one out there transmitting."

"There are others out there Leah," he told me. "It simply does not have much range. You must remember this area is quarantined, off limits. I think the military let's people believe it is because of radiation which creates a scare that keeps them away but in truth there is no radiation, at least not around here. It would just be too hard to manage people so they say 'if you go there you are on your own and you are triaged from receiving any help.' It is probably that more than the threat of radiation that has people avoiding the area."

"Mmmm. Maybe. I …" I never did finish my sentence. I was pulling a branch out of a tree when it came crashing right at my face.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Part 10: Year Without a Summer Redux**_

 _When endlessly before you summer lay_  
 _And as in the deep, crimson dusk you stir_  
 _Your soul joins with the birds in wistful brood_  
 _Crying for lost summer days, for childhood_

 _-Shannon Georgia Schaubroeck_

Nydia squealed, danced backwards taking Neeno with her as it darted toward them hissing. Mateo swung at it with the machete he had been using to trim branches but missed. After my initial scare all I could do was grab the small quilt I had brought for the children and toss it over the beastie. Oh it made a horrible racket but eventually settled down in the dark. I looked at Mateo and he at me. Nydia had run to hide behind him and was peeking at the lump it made from behind his hip.

I sat down and then just about had a fit. Mateo asked, "Leah? Are … you all right?"

I finally laughed the laugh that I'd been trying to hold in. "You know how they say you should be careful what you pray for because you just might get it?" At his nod I continued, "Did we or did we not talk about wanting some chickens or a goat or some other livestock a couple of days ago?"

Before I had even finished his lips were twitching. "Ah yes. I had forgotten this."

"Forgotten what?"

"How you see answered prayers in the oddest things. And pray how, mi Amor, do you plan on caging that mad goose? If he is going to be that way I'd as soon eat him."

Nydia asked, "Will he taste as good as duck?"

That set me off again and Mateo could only smile and shake his head before going back to trimming the limbs so that we could bundle them and secure them in the wagon better. It felt good to have someone to laugh with. I had laughed with Nydia on occasion but laughing with a child is different than the laughter that comes when two adults are sharing something humorous.

But he was right, how on earth was I going to deal with a crazy goose. I absentmindedly gathered the goose's feathers that he had lost as he fell out of the tree … more of a bush really since the top had been blown out of it during one of the bombing runs. I decided that I would just pick the goose up in the quilt like it was in a tote sack and hopefully it wouldn't hurt itself. I knew where I could put it until we could build a chicken yard for it; one of the larger "tree huts" would work well for this, one of the ones without the bees in it. The one that I had discovered the baby grasshoppers in would probably suit the noisy thing to a tee.

As a matter of fact when I did put it in there it pinched my leg hard enough to bruise so I decided to call it Bruiser. I watched for a few moments as it tried to get out and then the mean thing caught sight of the grasshoppers and it found something more to its taste to expend its energy on. The reason that Mateo and I had been talking about livestock was because we sat down and truly faced our predicament. I had been getting by but I didn't have a fully fleshed out plan for the future. Once Mateo started to get his health and strength back his true personality started to reassert itself. A primary element of his makeup is that he has always been a planner … especially in the financial arena. Once our assets were measured in coins and paper; no more. These days our assets are measured much differently … food, water, fuel, and shelter.

The garden is our stock market where we invest our sweat and assets like seeds. The wood pile is our longer term investments like bonds and a 401K. Water is a return on an investment of work that we then reinvest. The pantry and the house and the barn are our bank vault where we store our wealth. The guns and ammo are our security to keep thieves from taking what is ours.

I know that is a bit oversimplified but I think that is how Mateo looks at it, how he is reintegrating his talents into our lives. He knows what is really important; in his words "God, mi Corazon, y mi ninos which are our future." But Mateo is not one to sit back. He was raised with a strong work ethic; if you don't work then you don't eat. When we first met that work ethic was played out behind a desk; these days his hands and body are as callused and lean as they were once soft and his mind is once again as sharp as it ever was. He is still the same man I married, but he is more as well. And I'm thankful for it.

"Leah, you have created a good base for us to work from. I give you all the credit for that. You took what we pooled our resources for in the beginning and have greatly expanded the return. But we need to be careful that we don't grow complaisant, expecting the same return for the same input. Anything could happen … bad weather, bandits, the government … anything. We need to expand."

"Expand?!" I yelped. After thinking it over I said, "Well, I suppose I could add more raised beds to the front of the house. It's just that I was trying to not be too obvious from the road."

"No mi Corazon, although more raised beds would not be bad if we can find the materials. What I mean is that we need to diversify."

"More trees?" I asked flummoxed.

He shook his head in the negative. "Animals. I wish now we had not been so short-sighted as to have eaten the chickens."

Finally beginning to see where he was going I said, "Well, I'm not sure how I would have taken care of them after the bomb fell. Mostly it was due to lack of feed and the fact that they had stopped producing eggs that we culled them."

"Yes, we had our reasons but hindsight is 20/20 mi Tesoro. I would give a lot to have them back now. There is no telling when we will be able to replace them."

I was remembering that conversation as I put the last few finishing touches on supper including the Split Pea Bars that I had made to celebrate getting our first farm animal. Those bars sound disgusting to the uninitiated but they are actually pretty good all things considered. You cook dry split peas until you have a really thick soup and then you add in some milk – I used some of my precious powdered milk – then add in a bunch of other spices and sweetenings and a little flour and powdered eggs. I also added raisins for a little extra. I wished I'd had some nuts to add but we ran out of those a long time ago which was just one reason why I hoped that the peanuts I had planted would make.

Mateo was helping by feeding Neeno which was a job in and of itself now that we were trying to get him to eat some pureed vegetables while Nydia sat the table for the rest of us. "Mateo?"

"Hmm?" he responded while trying to aim the baby spoon at the hungry little mouth that hadn't quite figured out that you can't expect a mortal to actually shove something in if it is moving a mile a minute.

Smiling at the sight I asked, "Where do you think the goose came from? I mean, I've never seen any wild geese around here before. I didn't think Florida was really in their fly zone."

"I was wondering that as well. I think … it's just a theory … that the change in weather patterns may have driven some birds and other animals off their normal migration paths."

"OK but that goose doesn't look like a wild goose, at least not that I've ever seen. It is kind of … well … farm-looking."

Mateo looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Farm-looking Ms. Teacher?"

"Smart aleck," I grouched back good-naturedly. "Would you prefer farmish or farmly? You know what I mean. It looks like the kind of goose that is normally raised on a farm – domesticated – not one that should be flying around loose. Although I suppose domesticated animals can go feral. I know pigs certainly can."

"Leah, I don't have the answer. My only real concern at the moment is if the goose is not wild … or feral as you mentioned … then where are the humans that brought in these farmly birds."

I threatened to throw a wet rag at him which started Nydia laughing before we all sat down to eat. After Mateo said Grace we continued with his train of thought. "We should re-secure the barn. Yes, I know that is a problem but I was already thinking of doing it anyway since we don't know how many people could be traveling through the area. I would also like to start salvaging more parts from the other houses that remain in this area, particularly windows, doors, hardware, mirrors, lumber … we could rearrange the stalls in the barn so that we can keep it organized as it comes in."

"And we are doing this now instead of if and when we need that stuff because why?" I asked concerned at the idea of adding one more thing to my already long list of chores.

"In the future I suspect that salvage will be a big business. Perhaps not as big as local manufacturing has the potential to be, perhaps not as big as lumber either, but until commercial industry starts back up people will be very dependent on salvage either for their own purposes or …"

"Or what?" I asked as he fell silent in thought.

"Leah, I know I'm stating the obvious here but there are simply some things that we can't make. Either neither one of us has the skill or perhaps not the supplies. For instance, while I was gratified to see that we still had all of the ammunition ..."

"Except what I've used for hunting gator."

He shuddered, "Do not remind me. The very idea of you … don't, the last thing I need is more nightmares ... we'll talk of your hunting animals big enough to snap you in half later. What I'm saying is there are things like the ammo that we will eventually have to replace. The fewer things that we have to purchase outright the better. We have the precious metals still hidden but you can't eat them and right now people are more concerned with feeding their families, keeping them warm, and maintaining a roof over their heads. Perhaps some survivalist types in their bunkers and citadels are trading gold and silver but the common man is not."

"Honestly Mateo, they weren't that big. The biggest was only a five-footer. OK, ok," I said when he gave me a look. "So who exactly do you think we are going to be trading with? It has been months since … well, since not long after Neeno was born … that I saw my last military personnel. After that it was those three kids I told you about. Then it was you … and … and Greg. Not a single other living soul."

"And God put a hedge of protection around you mi Corazon. There are people out there, lots of people, and not all of them nice and friendly. The population of this country … of the world … has fallen quite a bit, probably on the order of a deadly pandemic, but not on the order of ninety plus percent of the human race as was in some of those apocalyptic novels your father like to read. The depopulation however is patchy. In some places you'll find humans removed completely from the food chain and in others what few people have been lost have been replaced by emigrants from other areas. Your only contact with the outside world came from your Capt. Taglione and you said yourself that she was in charge of a large refugee center some ways from here … though I did wish you knew where. In my experience those refugee centers have as one of their primary goals rehabilitation and relocation of their inmates."

"Inmates? I thought those refugee camps were sanctuaries. You make it sound like prison."

"Trust me when I say this Leah, for many those camps are exactly that albeit unintentional ones. They are told when to get up, when to sleep, who they may associate with as populations are broken down into manageable blocks based on age and sex and whether they are single or a family; they are forced to work to help the camp be as self-supportive as possible, the food is barely enough to keep the children from crying but not enough to keep the adults from complaining, illness runs rampant and medical supplies and medicines are in as short supply as the food is. Guards walk around with automatic weapons and despite this show of force you have unspeakable crimes committed because you cannot completely weed out all of the troublemakers and criminals. It is not a place I would want my family to be if I had anywhere else to go."

I had to believe Mateo, he had seen it with his own eyes, and it gave me an even greater appreciation of our home. "I can't imagine trying to have a baby in that environment. I'm so glad I didn't give into the temptation of trying to get to one of the collection points."

"Do not get me wrong, most of the camp staff try and do their best, they are simply overwhelmed and many of them are in the same boat as the refugees; their homes are gone or inaccessible, family is missing, their former jobs are gone and their future is uncertain. Some do take their stress out on the refugees but not most by any stretch. You also have incompetence, too few staff for too many refugees, entitlement mentality on all sides. Some camps are better than others. I was a guard in one that was basically set up for criminals and troublemakers."

"The one you met Greg at?"

"Yes, and the one before that as well. They tried to move us around so that we would not develop any attachments or get too friendly. I can understand their point but it wasn't as efficient as it could have been either."

Knowing Mateo I said, "And let me guess, you told someone that as well." A sheepish grin was confirmation enough that I shook my head. "You are lucky you didn't wind up one of those prisoners rather than a guard."

"I am not stupid Leah," he said with a grin. "I knew where to draw the line at my … er … helpfulness. And the guards had other ways to make things better when we could."

"Oh … you didn't … oh yes you did. Mateo! You could have been in so much trouble … even danger!"

"I said nothing!" he bluffed.

"Don't give me your nothing. You got involved in something didn't you?"

Mateo grinned like a naughty school boy. "The less said the better, and it was months and months ago and no longer matters except as a remembered bit of satisfaction."

"Honestly," I muttered. Mateo just chuckled and we finished our dinner and I shooed them out to the family room after they helped me to clear the table. I needed space to think and washing the dishes out on the lanai gave it to me.

I loved having Mateo home but it certainly was changing things. I just hoped he remembered that I was just one person that already had several full time jobs. I was glad that Mateo was well enough to start making plans but I worried that he would get a head of himself … and me … and all of the things I was trying to do to keep us fed. After Neeno and then Nydia were put to bed … both going willingly after Poppy read them some story … the subject came back up.

"Leah, now that you have had time to think on it, do you have any idea whether it is feasible that the goose could have flown or migrated since you think it is a domestic bird?"

"Hey, I didn't teach biology remember," I told him wondering exactly what he thought was my knowledge base.

"No, but you grew up … different … from what I experienced. You started out with skill sets that I'm still trying to acquire and you have an innate way of thinking of things that is … creative."

I blushed in the dark but for the sake of argument I conceded, "OK, so I was raised differently than you. Our talents lie in different areas that's all, though they overlap perhaps more than you admit. But growing up we never had a menagerie of animals, we couldn't afford them. The neighbors had dogs … oh never mind, I'm getting off the topic."

"And? Your thoughts on our topic?"

"All right, I have thought about it. It's hard not to. I've seen birds of course, a lot of them once the cats disappeared, but nothing like that goose. I've seen ducks, I've even fed you roasted duck, but only when there aren't too many gators in the ponds and canals. Speaking of which, whether you like it or not we need to go on another hunt; we need more meat and the bigger gators have the turtles and ducks avoiding the area." Mateo sighed unhappily but I ignored it and continued. "I took a look at Bruiser again and I don't think … think mind you … that he is a domesticated bird, not completely. He reminds me of the ducks that I used to see in the parks with Nydia that were mixed domestic and wild. It is obvious that Bruiser can fly after a fashion; most domestic breeds of geese can't, they're too heavy and their feathers are too short. But that bird isn't completely wild either; he became content to be for all intents and purposes caged up much more quickly than I think a wild goose would that had all of the instincts to fly. The most Bruiser has done is fly, or rather jump with his wings to give him a boost, up into the lower branches of the grapefruit tree and roost once evening starts to fall. Which in and of itself is kind of strange because I didn't think geese roosted in trees."

Giving what I had said some thought, "So you think maybe we have a hybrid or mixed breed bird. Do you think there are more?"

"I haven't got the foggiest idea. In the morning when it is light I'll look and see if any of my parents' books have information in them on geese. The Carla Emery book probably does – it is very exhaustive – but I'm not sure it has the information that we specifically need. I'm not sure how geese tend to group themselves as far as their living arrangements go. I've rarely seen ducks, geese, and chickens walking around by themselves but I don't know if that was because of the setting I saw them in or by natural inclination."

Mateo nodded his head. "It will be interesting to see what you find. Can you tell whether our goose is a male or female?" I had to laugh at that and he smiled. "Yes, I know … wallet or purse. But won't that determine whether we keep her or eat him?"

"I hope it is a her. If we can keep her fed she might give us some fresh eggs."

"Er … are goose eggs … uh … do they taste …"

I patted his leg as we were sitting very close enjoying the dying embers of the fire before going off to bed ourselves. "Goose eggs and duck eggs are bigger than chicken eggs. If I remember, duck eggs are about twice the size of chicken eggs and a goose egg is equal to about four chicken eggs. Used to be in the old days that geese and ducks were prized above chicken eggs partly for this reason and partly because they were more self-sufficient than chickens. Learned that in St. Augustine on a field trip as a matter of fact. But chicken eggs are really the only ones that you can boil in their shells with good results."

"So asking for your Deviled Eggs would be out I suppose," he said disappointed.

"'Fraid so Novio. But goose and duck eggs are great for scrambling which is something I really don't like to do with the powdered eggs we have left." We both made a face remembering the few times that I had tried it. "They are also good for baking and sweet breads. The protein is higher as well which is something you need, well something we all need given the work that we are doing. You know, something that just entered my mind, I don't know if Bruiser turns out to be male if we should eat him for a while."

"Why?"

"Well, if he does fly and has migrated from out of the area, shouldn't we be careful that he hasn't migrated through an area with radiation?"

The look on Mateo's face told me he hadn't thought of that either. He kissed my temple and muttered, "Mi brillante Teroso." Well that kind of led to an entirely different subject and we never did get back around to talking about livestock.

The next day, while hunting a gator … more like shooting fish in a barrel in one of the canals since we took three medium sized ones to the gratitude of all of the turtles and other animals in the area … we found two other geese that looked very similar to Bruiser and were just as cranky and noisy. I don't care whether geese have teeth or not, their bills can leave nasty pinches that ouch for hours. I also thought to see if we could find a nesting duck but the gators must have pushed them out of the area. Mateo and I added a screened in run onto the tree hut and in the following days the geese were able to leave the hut without us worrying about them flying away. It also gave the birds a chance to get more exercise, stretch their wings, and to forage for themselves. My hope was that eventually they would become so tame that I could let them wander in the garden without having to worry about them flying away.

The high water did cause one problem that got on my nerves. Water moccasins. Surprisingly Mateo had no problems with the snakes and in fact was very good at relieving us of their presence. I found out that he'd learned how as one of the camps he had worked at was right next to a swamp in south Florida. He showed me how the guards would skin, clean, and cook them to add to their meager ration allotments. The swamp was both the reason for his lack of fear of the snakes and his unreasonable dislike of gators.

"We would have some people escape and on several occasions we would find … parts of them … at the edge of the swamp. They'd obviously fallen to local predators, gators being the most common but boa constrictors were another problem. I saw two separate attacks on guards as well. They didn't allow us any light as we patrolled the outside of the fence in case it drew the enemy and … let us just say that it was gruesome." It made his dislike of the reptiles understandable but given they were our primary source of large game I couldn't afford to let his prejudice get in the way.

The workload became such that in the mornings I would stay at home to do most of the gardening while Mateo would walk the neighborhood in search of things to salvage. One day he was gone hours longer than he had before and I became frantic with worry. When he did come home, exhausted but triumphant, I burst into tears and ran inside. It was a bump that happens in most marriages but he had just about scared me to death. He wasn't a child I needed to monitor the movements of all the time but I was still learning to trust that he wouldn't disappear on me again.

The days settled into a pattern and as it turned out Bruiser was a male as Mateo had caught him "in the act" so to speak with the other two. The other bit of evidence came from the occasional egg that I found … and never provided by Bruiser. Following the directions I found in a couple of my mother's books I built nesting boxes, rearranging their pen a bit, and soon I was getting a goose egg from each goose every couple of days until Mateo and I decided to leave them to see if any would hatch.

The weather was often a topic of conversation. Would it rain yet again or would we have a clear day so we could stay dry while we get all of our work done? Would the sun shine enough for the plants? Would it warm up enough for a seeds to germinate? For it to be June in Florida it was still significantly cooler than it should have been; a daily high that rarely reached eighty and only if there was no cloud cover – which wasn't often – to night time lows that could fall into the low fifties. One day we started discussing how long the strange weather patterns would continue and I brought up a topic that I had been thinking about for some time.

"Mateo have you ever heard of the Year Without A Summer?"

"Should I have?" he asked in return. When he saw the outraged look on my face he said, "Ah, la profesora is about to deliver a lecture."

"Yes I am. I can't believe … oh you!" The look on his face gave him away.

"You will remember how many of those historical documentaries you forced us to watch?"

"Hey! You said you enjoyed them!"

He laughed at my outrage. "Of course I did Leah, I'm just playing."

I snorted my lack of appreciation for his sense of humor. "Well, tell me if you don't think that it is applicable here."

"Perhaps you should remind me," he admitted.

"Hah! I knew it." But I smiled anyway before starting the history lesson. "The year was 1816. In Northern Europe and much of North America temperatures were reported at historical lows all year long. It was believed at the time by the scientists of the day that several converging reasons caused the unusual weather. First off there was historic low solar activity … spots or what have you. But the largest reasons were atmospheric abnormalities caused by several large volcanic eruptions that dumped dust and gases into the air. This cycle started prior to the year without a summer. In 1812 there were two eruptions, one in Indonesia and one in the Caribbean. In 1813 there was one in Japan. In 1814 there was one in the Phillipines. The largest occurred in early April of 1815 when Mount Tambora erupted in Indonesia. It had been nearly 1,700 years since the world had seen an eruption that large and it made international news, even in the young USA."

Mateo sat back, interested in spite of himself.

"The weather event was bad but not necessarily the worst of it. Because of the weather there were widespread crop failures. First there was famine, then food riots. Ireland experienced a typhus epidemic directly attributed to the famine that killed over 100,000 of its people. Fatality figures for places like Switzerland were double what were seen in other years. Crop failures were reported all over Europe and in New England. China experienced devastating rice crop failures. Summer snowfalls were reported even in areas where winter snowfall wasn't normally guaranteed to occur."

He asked, "And this correlates how exactly? I understand if you are talking about a nuclear winter yet that isn't what we are having … the earth encased in snow and ice because the sun has been blotted out by radioactive dust in the atmosphere."

Knowing he referred to one of the worst case scenarios of nuclear war I told him, "OK, bear with me. I'm trying to put together some of the things Dad talked about, known world history, and what we are experiencing now. We've apparently had either a very limited nuclear exchange or sufficient bombs going off that it has thrown enough dust into the air that it has disrupted our weather patterns. That is what Capt. Tag confirmed in her note. My concern is not necessarily what caused the weather pattern change so much as how it correlates to a similar occurrence from history. The year 1816 started out normally in January. By spring the weather was noticeably different from what it should have been. It was also dry enough, long enough to be considered a drought period along with the cold snap. Following the drought above average precipitation occurred which likely correlates to our own current overabundance of the wet stuff lately. Historically, after this period of extra precipitation the weather turned even colder moving into the winter. But, it really wasn't the cold which was only a few degrees off normal that resulted in the catastrophic conditions but the cumulative effects that were the result of the crop failures; skyrocketing prices and famine which in turned caused fatalities from famine and disease at historically high rates."

I was gratified to see that Mateo was really listening to me now and not just humoring me.

"The year 1816 was … well, not localized exactly but it didn't have a total worldwide environmental effect. There were areas of the world that completely escaped any kind of significant effect. Historically it compares to some other events such as weather effects caused by the eruption of the volcano Santorini in 1620 BC I think that all but crippled the Minoan culture; the collapse of the Bronze age by the Hekla 3 eruption in 1200 BC; the weather disturbances caused by the eruption of Krakatoa in 535 AD ; the eruption of a volcano in Peru in 1600 I think that caused the coldest weather in the northern hemisphere for six centuries and which likely caused the Russian famine of that same year; the eruption of Laki in Iceland in 1783 which led to thousands of fatalities in Europe; the severe year of blizzards in the Laura Ingalls Wilder book the Long Winter could very well have been caused by a volcanic winter; and even the eruption of Mt Pinatubo in 1991 caused some wonky weather here in the states during the following months."

"Wonky weather?"

"Strange, unusual patterns … mild where it was expected to be bad and bad where it should have been mild. Now from there we need to move into our current situation. We don't know how widespread the bombs were nor how widespread the dust and debris is in our atmosphere. We don't know if the war continues in places, including more bombs. We don't know if it is confined to the Northern Hemisphere or if the Southern Hemisphere has also been affected. We don't know if bombs set off other environmental disasters like earthquakes, volcanoes, and who knows what all. Certainly we're lucky in this area that the canals and retention ponds along the highway have been able to contain the water or at least funnel it away from our home and yard preventing us being flooded out. The swamp has spread, but not appreciably in our direction; I think the earlier drought actually saved us in that respect."

"I have a feeling you are about to make a point that I'm not going to like," he said with a sigh.

I nodded. "My point being is that the situation got worse before it got better and that the change in weather patterns lasted more than a single year. I don't necessarily know that it is going to get a lot worse than what we've already experienced as far as the weather goes but I am concerned about the cumulative effect from the results of the change in weather patterns. I do suspect based on previous historical evidence however that it may be another year or three or five before our weather patterns return to what we are used to."

Mateo was silent for a long time. "I cannot change what God has wrought or man has wrecked … but that doesn't mean that we cannot do as Joseph did and store up good things for the bad times."

As soon as he said it some of the pressure that I had felt building disappeared. "So you don't think that I'm nuttier than a fruitcake?"

He looked at me, blinked, and then said, "I happen to like your fruitcake." It was so unexpected that I nearly laughed. "No Corazon, I do not think you are crazy. I am not quite sure what to think but I know that you would not risk airing your theory if you did not believe it was possible. And you support your theory well … unfortunately well enough that I begin to see the possible problems ahead of us. But if I remember that documentary, they stated that innovation also came out of that period of tribulation."

I nodded and said, "Supposedly the lack of oats from the year without a summer drove a man to invent what was to become a precursor of the modern bicycle, it forced emigration into the Heartland of our country as people sought better land to grow things on, and a scientist who experienced the famine as a child began experimenting with plant nutrition and eventually introduced mineral fertilizers."

"So. It does not have to be all bad … but in order to enjoy the good that comes out of the tribulation we much survive it. It is going to mean work … and taking some risks … but I do not see a choice. Do you?"


	11. Chapter 11

_**Part 11: Filling the Days**_

 _Man is so made that he can only find relaxation from one kind of labor by taking up another_.

 **Anatole France** **(1844 - 1924)** , _The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard_

There is a difference to the days when you are working to subsist and when you are working to expand and thrive. Before Mateo came home my days were filled with mostly trying to make ends meet and making sure there would be food on the table that day … and maybe tomorrow. With Mateo's return not only was I thinking of food for tomorrow but food for the coming winter and next spring and beyond. No longer did I have to worry about being the only one gathering enough wood to keep us warm for the day; Mateo's longer arms and greater leverage helped to create a wood pile that would last us a month if we didn't add to it. His goal was six months at a time but that would depend on how cold it got in the coming months.

Mateo didn't just bring home wood when he went out. He brought home a lot of things I hadn't even thought to salvage: door knobs and locks; door hinges, light bulbs, the motors out of ceiling fans, all of the gizmos from inside HVAC units, fancy light fixtures, cabinet knobs, mirrors, window shades, door knockers, filing cabinets, copper piping, extension cords, heavy outdoor planters, stacking plastic chairs, folding tables, pool equipment, metal shelving from storage sheds and garages, and so much more as to make my head spin. He stacked the aluminum that I had layered upstairs neatly and even matched up like pieces in case we needed to put them back together for something. At first glance it looked like the barn was turning into a junk yard but if you looked more closely you could see an inventory system actually did exist. Mateo has everything organized – nearly over organized if such a thing is possible – and I don't even like to go into some of the stalls for fear of messing up whatever he is in the middle of.

Early one morning Mateo came running back to the house causing my heart to jump into my throat in fear. His hurried words didn't help. "Get the children inside!" He ran for one of the large caliber rifles before rushing back down the street towards the canal. My nerves were on edge for several minutes before there was a loud shot that seemed to echo forever. It was another forty-five minutes and I was this close to going to look for him when I saw him coming back to the house out of breath and filthy.

I ran towards him bringing a canteen of fresh water. He guzzled it down and the said, "I give up."

"Give up what?!" I asked shaking like a leaf from nerves.

"God never does anything by half measure," was his response.

"Mateo you aren't making a bit of sense." In the distance I heard several loud crashes. "Who are they? What do they want?!"

"Who? Oh … oh Leah, I … Oh Dios, my poor Corazon … it isn't a who, they are a what. And by the sound of them if I don't figure out how to cage them, they will get away from us."

The long and the short of it is that a boar, a couple of sows, and some piglets startled Mateo while he was out salvaging. The boar tried to gore him and ran him up a tree for a moment. He was eventually able to lock the two sows and their piglets in a house. The boar tore off in the opposite direction and in the process became bogged down on the bank of the canal with predictable results. The shot was Mateo putting the mortally wounded hog out of his misery right before a gator took him under for the final time by rolling.

It was not fun trying to wrangle the remaining hogs. I finally resorted to pacifying them with some of the garden refuse I would normally have put in the compost as well as a scoop of dried corn mixed in. That did it. They went to town and then settled down to feed their young.

Mateo and I spent the rest of the day using chain link fence that he'd brought home to build two large pens in the only place we had left which was between the pond and the barn. The barn formed one "wall" and then we built the other three walls using an oak tree as one corner and a cyclone fence post for the other. We sank the fence walls two feet into the ground using a trench and then backfilling to keep the pigs from rooting their way out and to keep anything from digging their way in.

We had to finish the upper part of the fence the next day because it took a long time that we did not have much fun in trying to move the hogs from the house to their new pens. Before we did anything else we tagged which piglet went with which sow using powdered, colored chalk. After that we roped the sows and I bribed them every couple of yards to cooperate and follow where we pulled them. The piglets were so young they were practically still attached to their mommas so it was just a matter of shooing them along and trying not to step on any of them when they would run under our feet.

In the days that followed Mateo added more space and a little chute kind of deal that the piglets could get away from the sows by going through. He realized we didn't need to make it so tall as we had the first pen but he did wind up adding braces to the walls. I left him to it – he was devouring all the books we had on animal care and husbandry – as I had my own work cut out for me; I was adding more garden spaces. Not only did we need more food for ourselves but now I needed to provide feed for all those new hungry mouths that God was sending our way. The pigs got all of the peels and spotted or bruised pieces from the fruits and vegetables, most of the plant tops except for the alliums like onions and garlic, and the stalks of plants once I found out what they liked. I added a small scoop of our dried corn until our fresh corn started coming in, then I cut it down to every other day.

My deciduous trees gave me fruit a couple of weeks late but they did give me fruit … peaches, nectarines, and figs were such a delicious addition to our table that it was hard to hold some back for preserving. I planted new rows of beans every few days and just about worked myself silly trying to keep up with the production's harvest. The melons gave more than we could eat fresh though I lost several to invading raccoons until I figured out how to keep them out by fencing off each individual fruit as it matured. I had tried putting a container over the fruit but I left one on too long and the fruit eventually grew to fill the inside of the old plastic milk jug. It was a funny sight to see a milk jug shaped melon once I finally cut the container away.

Winter squash, zucchini, yellow crookneck squash … any squash I had seeds for … grew pretty well though they were a ton of work since they spread so quickly. But it was either keep them covered at night or come the morning discover that the raccoons and opossums had eaten them all. I noticed a large Himalayan cat had moved back into the neighborhood … a large, hairy male Himalayan cat … and after that there were fewer baby raccoons to have to deal with. Fewer squirrels too which had been a real pain in the corn patch. Every once in a while I would hear a cat fight so I knew there was more than one around but there was no way I was going to make friends with the thing. I'd made the mistake of thinking he was just a big fuzzball lost and looking for a new home and tried to talk to him one time when I saw him while I was helping Mateo bring in some wood. Uh uh, never again. I actually like cats but I swear this one was part mountain lion or something. It growled at me and since I'm college educated I was able to decipher from all the noise that while I could look, touching would not be the brightest idea I had ever had.

The sweet potatoes did well towards the end of June and a prayer was answered when it looked like the peanuts were also making even if they were going to be late doing it. My potted tropical fruit trees and bushes were doing OK but nothing worth taking out a full page ad for. The strawberry quava, cherry of the rio grande, and Persian limes did the best of all of the potted exotics but I think that is because I took so much care of them in the beginning when I still could.

As June moved into July the rain finally slacked off and the temps consistently reached the low eighties every day but that was still ten to fifteen degrees cooler than it should have been. In one respect it was pleasant but in another it was worrisome, but since it was one of the things I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I couldn't do anything to change I did what my mother always said to do and "left it on the altar." Strangely enough when I did that I was rewarded though it became progressively more difficult for me not to go back and pick it back up and add it to what I already carried around in my worry sack.

God continued to provide. We added some very ugly ducks to our menagerie. And when I say ugly I'm not kidding. None of them matched each other. They are a complete patchwork of other ducks. Some remind you somewhat of mallards and then others drive you crazy trying to figure how what duck species they are most similar to. They are the calicos of the duck world. The drakes are easily the oddest looking as they have very distinctive facial features. The drakes also fight with each other and it is no joke when they do it because they have claws on their toes. The drakes will also fight with other animals and people if they get in the mood so I'm always mindful when the children are out there with me. And I was out with the ducks quite a bit trying to clean up after them, gracious they are messy. Luckily we need the fertilizer so I always have someplace to dump it.

We took over the Nelson's backyard and even some of Mr. Houchens' as well as we were running out of room. Three acres may sound like a lot but when you are trying to feed a family year 'round from what you can produce it really isn't. The first attempt at the garden expansion was almost a failure. I came out one morning to spy deer raiding the new green shoots. The deer ran off at my scream and just as quickly Mateo came running to me.

"Leah!"

"That … that monster … it was eating my corn!"

After I calmed down and explained – actually Nydia explained because I was stomping around, ready to pop a blood vessel at the animals' audacity – Mateo measured and left to collect more fencing. When he came back I was still livid.

"Corazon," he said trying to soothe my temper. "It is bad, but not the end of the world."

I nearly turned on him with a snarl but caught myself in time. "Those creatures were taking food out of our children's mouths!"

Calmly he said, "Yes. And if I get a chance they will become food for our children's mouths."

His measured response caught me off guard. Stopped me cold if I'm honest, and left me silent. I thought for a moment and then realized I had only been seeing the negative and not the potential good.

"There are deer," I said in wonder. "I don't think I've ever seen deer around here."

"I know I've never seen them though I heard when I first moved in that occasionally small ones would come out of the swamp during the dryer months."

"The ones I saw just now weren't small. They were White Tails. I know they were."

Mateo stopped using the post hole digger for a moment and asked, "They were what?"

"White Tailed Deer. My father would hunt them when I was younger before my cousins sold their acreage in Georgia. Momma used venison the same way and as often as most people used beef."

"Well," Mateo said after thinking a while. "I suppose it only makes sense that wild life would move into the suburbs after all this time. When I was down in south Florida even the zoo animals could be found wandering around on occasion … although most of them were killed and eaten before officials could come collect them."

Mateo told me that as the infrastructure collapsed people released their pets to fend for themselves. The same thing happened at petting zoos and eventually large zoos also became compromised in some way, including from bombings, and animals would escape. We both wondered for a bit about Lowry Park Zoo and Busch Gardens but were unwilling to waste time away from our own concerns at home just to satisfy our curiosity. We had enough to deal with without taking on more that had no practical return for us. Any animal still locked up would be a carcass and we didn't need to go looking for trouble in case other such exotic species were on the loose. I wondered briefly about salvaging for animal feed but soon realized my wits must be begging as at this late date animals would have already found it or likely groups like Capt. Tag's would have already thought of it and cleaned the place out. I was briefly depressed over a hypothetically missed opportunity but it was Mateo that said, "We have enough for now, no sense borrowing trouble. Once I've cleaned out the houses in a one-mile radius then we can think about a trip further afield. God has given us quite a bit to manage already."

Mateo had changed, was changing, and sometimes it was hard for me to keep up. In the beginning he saw church as my hobby. Eventually he came to understand how important my faith was to me, how much I depended on the strength I found in it; he understood the how but not necessarily the why. He never made fun of me, never hindered me exercising my faith and eventually even participated somewhat, but always as a kind of spectator. I was used to him following my lead in that area of our lives, humoring me, going as a family because it appeared to be the right thing to do and because it kept the peace.

But something happened to him at some point to cause a change. He was always the head of our house but on many things our duties and responsibilities were sharply split into categories that were either "his" or "hers" with just a few that were "ours." These days many more were "ours" with far fewer that could be defined strictly as "his" or "hers." And one of those "ours" was now our family's interaction with our faith. The differences went beyond the fact that I no longer had to ask him to say Grace before our meals. It went beyond that I no longer was the only one reminding Nydia to say her bed time prayers; Mateo was actually teaching Neeno to do this as well and all without my prompting or bringing the idea up in the first place.

It seemed that as time and events in this life wore at me, even taking my energy to call on my faith, Mateo would stand in that gap for me, for us. He wasn't a candidate for the Amen Pew yet but he was seeing God's hand in areas of our lives where my worry and fatigue was blinding me. I would laugh and joke about stuff being Providential, I would even believe it for the most part, but Mateo was really living the faith while some days I only felt like I was playacting it.

He was much less like a string that was pulled almost too taut. He seemed less afraid of his own strong emotional reactions to things and as a result he managed them better and was easier inside his own skin. It used to be that Mateo always seemed to have so much leftover energy that it wafted around him like static electricity looking for a target. Now he used both his mind and body so much that at the end of the day he could actually relax. He had concerns and still made plans, but he no longer worried at them the way he had in the past. He strove to make our lives better day by day and into the far future but he was also content with what we had in the here and now. Some days I felt like I barely made it through the day and was left unable to envision a far flung future.

One such day came when I realized that Nydia's treasure box was empty. I tried to provide a treat for her every once in a while just because. She helped so much even as young as she was that I tried to recognize these in tangible ways. I honestly don't know how I would have gotten everything done in a day without her help with Neeno or with toting and carrying things for me. The treats were not anything special or of great value - a new pencil, a new rubber band for her hair, a few pretty beads for her to string and wear, an unused crayon or marker. Rarest of all were the times when I had given her a piece of candy or a safety sucker. She never asked for these things, it was just something I did because I could … only now I couldn't. Everything was used up or gone. For some reason that fact just broke my heart.

I thought that I would make candies and wrap them like the store bought candies and refill the chest at least partially that way but as I looked over our food inventory I became concerned. I had used as little of all the sweeteners as I could but we would eventually run out no matter what I did … and sooner rather than later. Soon the lack of sugar added to my upset over no candy for Nydia. I thought all day but nothing came to mind. I was almost resolved to use a little of the sugar anyway. I told Mateo but he said, "I may have an idea, give me an hour in the morning before you finish deciding."

If I had hoped he had found a secret stash of food I would have been disappointed. I was putting breakfast on the table when he came in. "I have a surprise for my girls."

Nydia and I immediately grew suspicious; the last few "surprises" Mateo brought us had entailed a lot of extra work. "Did I ever tell you how poor my Abuelo and Abuela were? And their parents before them? I did? Good. Did I ever tell you they were so poor they never had store bought candy? No? Well it's true. In fact, my own mother didn't have store bought candy until my father bought her some lemon drops on their first date."

Nydia nodded and said, "That's like us Poppy."

I saw Mateo hide a wince. "Not quite Baby Doll," I told her. "For us the reason we don't have store bought things is because there are no stores around here."

Mateo gave me a grateful look for my understanding then told Nydia, "Listen to Nonny, she knows things. But just like Nonny knows how to make do without stores so did my grandparents and after breakfast I'll show you the surprise."

We sat down to scrambled duck eggs, squirrel sausage, fried sweet potato cakes, grits, and pan gravy. After the dishes were stacked for washing we followed Mateo onto the lanai where a stick was leaning. I was practically on top of it before I realized what it was. My mouth twitched trying to hide my smile so I wouldn't spoil things. Mateo took a machete, cut a short section of the "stick" and then using another blade peeled the tough outer skin off of it.

"Here Nydia, taste."

Nydia just looked at it in her hand. "It's a stick Poppy. I'm not a baby anymore so I know. You're not supposed to put sticks in your mouth. We have to tell that to Neeno all the time."

"This is a special stick," he laughed since it was true that Neeno was going through a stage where he was gnawing on everything, even me when he nursed though it was less often now that he was on some table food.

Nydia cautiously took a lick and the surprise on her face was so comical I wished I'd had a camera to catch it forever. "It's … it's sweet Poppy!"

Mateo had found a stand of sugar cane that had come back after the cold weather. It is basically just a grass and people frequently used it in their yard as an ornamental. While Nydia happily licked and sucked on her "candy stick," chewing the fibrous center to get the last bit of sweet from each piece Mateo told me, "There is more where that came from; a whole fence row in fact as well as stands in different spots through several of the local subdivisions. I'm not sure how but my mother said that it can be used to sweeten drinks and other things."

"Let me see what I can figure out. They sold that stuff by the bundle at the farmer's market. They wouldn't do that unless there was a way to use it by those who bought it."

I didn't have any luck in my mother's books. Those books were about sorghum which was different from cane although from what I gathered you processed the stalks in much the same way. When I went looking through Mateo's mother's and sister's old cookbooks that I had put away in the kitchen cupboard I kept my own mother's cookbooks in I did find recipes but only for the juice although once I got Mateo to translate something for me I learned you could use sugar cane hearts like a swizzle stick to sweeten drinks and you could also use them like skewers to grill food on which flavored whatever you were cooking with sweet goodness.

"Honestly," I said to Mateo one night while I was giving the kitchen a final cleaning before relaxing for the evening. "I'd give a lot to have whatever that thing was your sister wrote she used to juice the cane. It was in the edge of the cookbook that I could actually read."

"Hmmm? Yes, it was my mother's. It was heavy and I hated moving that thing around for her."

I looked at him where he was reading and making notes. "You know what she is talking about? Could you draw me a picture of it?"

"Why?" he muttered not really paying any attention.

"Because I want to see if I could replicate it," I told him patiently knowing he was only listening with half an ear.

He sighed, "Why do you want to do that when it is out in the barn?"

My mouth fell open and I had just found my voice again when his head jerked up. "Está hacia fuera en el granero. Cómo es estúpido puede I ser. ¡Por supuesto está hacia fuera en el granero!"

"English please," I said at his outburst.

"I'm an idiot Leah. It is out in the barn with that stuff we brought from my sister's house. I can't believe … argh!"

"The stuff that you just … um … you didn't seem like you wanted to go through it. I guess I forgot about it too. You stuck it in that overhead loft."

"Exactly. I guess I just never wanted to think about … it was not a good time for me. I didn't want to deal with … all the baggage I was stuck with, figuratively and literally."

I had known there were things that Mateo wasn't happy about as far as his childhood went but there are some areas that you just don't trespass even as a spouse. He didn't talk about it much and I had to respect his decision.

The next day, with no small amount of work since they had been shoved into a far back corner that was hard to reach, we finally pulled out the crates containing his parents' and sibling's belongings that he hadn't sold at the estate auction. He uncrated everything until we found the juice extractor and then sweating and pale backed away from everything. I asked him, "Do you want me to put it all away?"

He stopped, thought for a moment, and then said, "No. Take it … take it inside and …." With a very Latin hand movement indicated that I was to do with it whatever I wanted and then he walked away, turned once to say something, looked at the boxes and then turned again to keep walking. Over his shoulder he called, "I'm going to gather wood … and salvage … I … may be late coming home."

I think that was his way of asking that I put it away before he got back so he wouldn't have to face so much of it at a time. The extractor was heavy but it didn't require electricity for which I was very grateful. I dealt with the rest of it as well as I could. The pictures and movie DVDs were put into a couple of tins and then stored with the rest of our family home media. There were awards and such that obviously belonged to Mateo and his sister and niece. I boxed those up and stuck them in my hope chest for Nydia when she was old enough to appreciate them. A few things must have come from his grandparents … some cigar making relics, some really old costume jewelry, a picture where the flowers were made of human hair … and then there were some antique looking kitchen pieces and silverware that I put away in the China hutch. There were a few things that obviously belonged to Nydia's mother … Mateo's niece … and I boxed those up and put them in the top of her old bedroom closet for safe keeping. There weren't a ton of things but it was enough that putting it all away neatly took time out of my other chores. I didn't begrudge it as I knew it would be better for Mateo but I didn't exactly enjoy myself either. I enjoyed history but even to me it was a little creepy pawing through the belongings of people I'd never had the chance to know and who had had such an impact on my husband.

Finally, I went back to gardening which that day was weeding and harvesting squash, gourds, and pumpkins. I also had the beans and corn to deal with and I pulled up a peanut plant and hung it to dry as an experiment to see if the peanuts were ready or still too green. It was long passed Nydia and Neeno's supper time and both were nodding off waiting for Poppy to come home. When he did I was torn between making him suffer for being so late and worrying me or soothing him because he was obviously already suffering. In the end I decided that some things were best handled with care and I put his plate on the table and put the kids to bed myself. It took a while but finally they did both settle for the night and I returned to the kitchen where the only light came from the moonlight streaming through the one window I hadn't shut yet.

"How can you see to eat? Let me turn on the solar lamp."

"Leave it off … please."

"Do you want any more food? I have another biscuit and …"

"I … I suppose." I brought it over doing my best not to trip in the dark. "Leah, I'm sorry. I … I didn't mean to be quite so late. Time got away from me and I went further than I had realized."

"Mateo you don't need to …"

"Yes," he interrupted. "Yes I do. It's not fair that you have to feel the consequences of … the mess that was my family. But I just don't want to talk about it now, it's too … too difficult to explain and they're all dead anyway."

"All families are messy, some more than others. You've heard how my dad kept us at a distance from the rest of the family because he didn't care for how some of them acted or raised their kids. But my parents weren't perfect either. I loved them but if they hadn't been so prideful and hard headed maybe they … maybe they wouldn't have died the way they did. And you surely know about … about Hank … so I was certainly no paragon of good judgment back then. If you need to talk I'm here. When you need to let it out I'm here. And if you just want to let it go for a while longer I'm here. Just don't put it off forever Mateo or one of these days, just like Hank caught me off guard that time at the fair, your memories are going to catch you off guard and maybe make you say or do things that you like the results of even less than you do the memories."

I turned away to put the wet rag over the drying rack when he was suddenly just there and in my space needing some comfort. As he hugged me I hugged him back. "Mi Tesoro, I will talk about it one day, but not … not now. I have worked so hard to put it all to rest and move on, to find peace with it. Only sometimes does it get tempting to start … what was it you called it the other day? Digging up old bones, that was it. I could feel the old … old feelings creeping up on me. It helped to go work, but it got away from me."

"Just … don't make a habit of letting it get away from you," I told him with another hug. "My shoulders may not be as broad as yours but I don't break near as easily as you seem to think. Nor will I run shrieking into the night if I find out your family or even you are not perfect. It happens. Now are you finished or still hungry? You put in a lot of hours today."

He stepped back and leaned against the counter but all I could see was his outline. "I missed putting the children to bed," he said morosely.

"That's not what I asked but if you want to put someone to bed then let's finish up in here and you can put me to bed."

He gave a surprised chuckle but we did just that. The next morning he was a little sheepish and seemed to be trying to make up for being missing in action the previous day. He started getting under my feet so I carefully but firmly shooed him off to take care of his own tasks so that I could take care of mine without worrying that he was worrying about me still worrying and being upset. He came home for lunch and had bagged another large snake so we had a little unplanned protein for dinner that night. He was getting quite a collection of snake skins that he was stretching on boards he leaned against the barn under the eaves.

"What are you going to do with all of them?" I finally asked him.

"The children will need shoes before it turns cold. I have been reading …"

That's how so many of our conversations went; a question would be asked and one or the other of us would say "I've been reading …" But reading is a lot different from implementing. Sometimes our ideas panned out and sometimes they did not … or at least not the way we had originally meant for them to. This time he was talking about making shoes for the children and repairing mine that were so close to wearing out as well.

"We don't have any souls for the shoes but I was thinking that I could cut pieces from tires but instead of sandals I could make full uppers from the snake skins somehow. Or perhaps when I finally get one of those deer …"

So many plans. It didn't matter that we barely had enough time to breathe each day, there was always more to do. There was so much more that we needed to do. We could have easily used two or three more sets of hands but then that would have meant even more work as we had to feed the mouths that went with those hands.

I let the first row of corn to dry but instead of just leaving it in the field I picked the ears and put them in mesh bags that I crocheted and then hung them on the lanai to finish curing. I would do the same to the beans I was allowing to dry. It was getting so that you had to dodge and weave just to get from the screen door, across the lanai, and into the house. At night when I was just plain too tired to do anything else I would sit and shell the dried beans or corn into containers that I would give one more airing to before sealing in an airtight container and putting them in the pantry.

My hands grew even more callused and I started catching everything on the cracked and peeling pads of my fingers. No matter what I did nothing made my hands go back to "lady looking." I was dark skinned from the sun and wind, my skin was drying out, and I was horrified to notice that I had what looked like the beginning of crinkles at the corners of my eyes. It isn't that I minded getting older, it was finding out that getting older was so easy to do that it was happening to me before I turned twenty-five. I tried not to be vain but Mateo caught me one day when I threw a rag at my reflection in the mirror. I was horribly embarrassed but he drug the story out of me and then set to convincing me that I was still totally desirable to him and eventually I was able to get over myself but I did start taking more care to wear a hat when I was out in the sun. Neither of us looked the same as we had even a year ago; life had aged us and not necessarily kindly.

It was towards the end of July and I was harvesting the first few … and late … bunches of grapes when I looked up as a flash caught my eye. "Mateo!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Part 12: The World Gets Bigger**

 _There's a great difference between knowing that a thing is so, and knowing how to use that knowledge for the good of mankind. – Jimmy Sangster_

"Mateo!" I called again. This time I pointed up which made him look up as he came over in a hurry. It was a small aircraft I could tell that much, but unlike the drones that had come through before. "That's not what the military sent out," I told him.

"No, those were drones," he agreed. "This one is manned and it is most definitely did not start out as military. Please take the children and go inside." When I opened my mouth to ask why he said, "Just for safety's sake until we know who and what this is about."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine," he told me as he cradled the rifle in his arm. "I just want you three out of the way in case something does happen."

I ushered the suddenly tense and silent children into the house; they always picked up on when danger or perceived danger was near. Without me saying a word Nydia took Neeno and went to the "hiding place" that we still kept stocked just in case. No one had said the war was over but at the same time living like Neanderthal flavored hobbits was bad for morale so we'd made the decision to leave it for emergencies and extra storage rather than our regular sleeping or living quarters. Not every action can be driven by fear if you plan on having any sanity left in the long run.

The plane – it didn't really qualify as one after we got a good look at it – was doing some kind of very haphazard grid search. Even as untrained as I was I could tell the difference between the precise the drone had "searched" compared to the much more haphazard way the little plane accomplished the same type of act. The pilot spotted our set up and then made a bee-line for the air above our home where it circled a couple of times. Buzzing very low, several somethings were thrown from the aircraft before it took off back the direction it had come from to the east. The somethings broke up and then fluttered to the ground making a royal mess.

I stuck my head out of the screen door and when Mateo was finished looking at what had come down he spotted me and walked over signaling me that it was safe, at least for the time being. Silently he handed one to me and I saw it was a piece of paper. There were three large blocks of writing on it.

 _Do not have fear, help is on the way! Liberation from your oppressors is imminent. You will be contacted soon. There is no reason for to have fear._

I looked at him and said sarcastically, "Love the new-style grammar. Remind me to add it to my curriculum."

Mateo shook his head, "La Profesora is not happy?"

"Knock it off Mateo," I huffed. "You know that kind of stuff irritates me. And just what is this supposed to be about? A little too much drama for my liking."

He sighed, "Nothing good I'm afraid, or maybe Greg rubbed off on me too much."

And did that little conversational tidbit open all sorts of mental doors or what? "Blue hats," I said almost unwillingly.

Calmly Mateo asked, "Why would you pick them rather than say a Venezuela or a Cuba?"

Trying to organize my quick mental jumps into something that I could explain I looked again at the leaflet. "Since I was the one to mention the grammar I'll start with that. That wasn't written by someone that spoke English as their first language. 'To have fear' instead of 'being afraid' is just one of the more obvious mistakes made. Yes, one of the three languages is Spanish but they left out the proper exclamation point at the beginning of the first sentence which leads me to think that Spanish isn't the writer's first language either. And last we have that third language used and correct me if I'm wrong but isn't that Esperanto?"

Mateo gave me a funny look, "And how do you know this? Do not take this wrong mi Amor but as a linguist you make a good baker."

I chuckled unwillingly, "Fine but just because I'm perfectly capable of butchering a language with my mouth doesn't mean my eyes are blind. Besides I had to do a report in college on George Soros and it turns out that he spoke Esperanto from childhood because his father was an Esperantist." At Mateo's look I explained, "Someone who uses Esperanto as a way to communicate and is usually involved in the culture to make it a more widely used language here on Earth."

"I'll take your word on that. I certainly don't recognize it as Spanish though it does appear to have some words … or forms of words … in common with the Latin language. And how does this play into your theory?"

I gave him a look. "And how did this suddenly become my theory? Oh never mind. It just doesn't seem like something any of the Spanish men that I've met would do, you included. You are much more … more … just more, I guess. Dropping flyers isn't your style, you'd be more likely to land cautiously or depending on the situation come back at a later time but you'd still do more than simply drop leaflets and fly away like you were afraid of something. Dropping flyers is the kind of thing they do during wars to create confusion in civilian populations. And all of that plus the plane itself and the fact that they didn't act like they knew we were here is what tells me this isn't our military."

"I agree," Mateo said.

"Then why did you …?"

"Because, I don't want to be the only one thinking crazy thoughts woman. If I am turning into Greg's shadow I want to at least be in good company."

I turned up my nose at the backhanded compliment and started to walk away but he caught me around the waist and drew me back towards him. "I do not mean to tease you so much. This does mean trouble Leah. We need to sit and decide what we are going to do about it, if anything. I do not know how to measure their 'soon' but I think it best if I spend the rest of the day bringing in as much wood as I can and I will be more careful from here on out to stay closer to the house."

I nodded, "If you really think it's necessary I'll try and harvest everything I can today and tomorrow and tonight we'll move everything we can back into the hidden rooms."

"I'm not sure what to think but as you are so fond of saying 'better safe than sorry'." He gave me a kiss and then went off with the wagon while I called Nydia and Neeno out to pick up the papers while I finished gathering the grapes and then continued to pick anything that even looked close to being ripe and ready.

That night after we'd put the children to bed we finally faced the situation head on. "Leah I don't think I've ever asked you, did you have problems with the multi-national groups that came in to assist with the recovery?"

"Mateo, I saw so few people and got so little news after Greg stopped showing up that to be honest my world shrunk to our yard. I'm not even sure what you mean by multi-national groups."

He shrugged, "Basically any country that thought they could get away with it came in and tried to make off with whatever assets and resources that they could."

"What?! Exactly who was in charge of the store when this was going on? And how could they get away with something so obvious?"

"It only became obvious in hindsight though Greg and people like him had warned of such events being possible and even probable for years before it actually happened. The military units had antipathy for them immediately but could not forcibly eject them without federal approval which they didn't get despite asking, then demanding it, several times. The groups first came under the guise of foreign aid workers, then in the guise of the UN itself. Supposedly they were helping to move supplies, fuel, and equipment to more efficient distribution points but in reality they were either setting up ethnic or cultural enclaves of their own people to give them a physical foothold on US soil or they were moving it all off shore, most to be sold on the black market back to the fools they stole it from in the first place."

"But someone eventually figured it out?"

"Oh yes. That is one of the things that precipitated the … let's call it the shuffle of power … in our government. The three branches still hold titular power per the Constitution but the military are the implementers while war is declared on our own soil. The military and Guardsmen as well as local militias – at least those that hadn't been disarmed by that point – came down on the multinationals fast and hard but by then the damage was done and the groups didn't necessarily want to go home where the fighting and economic climate was even worse. Then came the limited nuclear exchange. After that I haven't heard. Bea and her family had more trouble from the urban dwellers evacuating places like Miami-Dade but it's possible that some foreign nationals were in there as well."

I shook my head, upset. "It seems I keep finding out how little I've known about what has gone on beyond our street. Even here I kept to myself so much … if it hadn't been for the strange half warning the Trasks left me I don't imagine the children and I would be here today. I …"

"Don't!" Mateo snapped. Then he shook himself and apologized. "I should not have yelled like that. I just … let us not travel that road of might have beens. It was not and that's all that needs to be said about it."

Looking in his eyes I saw a bit of the mental chaos he had exhibited when he first returned so I let it go. "Fine. Even with that part of it put aside it still underscores how cut off I was and how cut off we are now. No TV, no radio, no Internet, no newspapers; even if the news was slanted it would still something to sift through for nuggets of truth. We haven't made contact with anyone in months. Sometimes I feel half deaf for lack of news."

"Oh Corazon," he hugged me. It didn't change the facts but having him understand how I felt made those facts more bearable.

"So," he said after a moment. "We are still left to decide how serious a threat the man in the ultralight is. And if you will hear me out I'd like to say something first." At my nod he repeated another of my father's favorite phrases, "Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and pray either way."

After a nostalgic moment I told him, "Agreed. It makes sense given our suspicions but what exactly can we do? Saying prepare is one thing, doing it is quite another."

"First I want to make some caches and bury them in case we are forced out of our home for a time. It makes good sense anyway so they aren't just for this event. You've saved all of the mylar bags you've opened. If I set up an inverter and battery in the kitchen could you refill them with your dehydrated fruits and vegetables and re-seal them?"

"I don't have any O2 absorbers left but so long as we rotate them on a regular basis … say every six months or so maybe … it should work. Are you going to bury buckets?"

"No. I found a supply of large schedule forty PVC pipes and screw caps, I think whoever lived there was a plumber by trade and the PVC was simply missed by other salvagers because it was partially covered in the back yard by bags of oak leaves like it was nothing but trash. As long as we are careful where we bury them – and I already have a few places picked out – it should be OK. Each section of pipe will be able to stand on its own as a resupply point so take that into consideration when you are packing the food. I really do not want to split our ammo and weapons but in a worst case scenario we'll need access to new ones if the ones we normally carry are taken away. We'll still have a lot left so I want to go back to hiding things as we once did. In fact, if there is time and I can find the supplies, could you make more hidden storage?"

"I … well … yes, I suppose I can. I can build it in the bunker walls. I'll just need better lighting to do the job right." We hadn't completely dismantled what had taken me so long to create though we had stopped using it on a regular basis. It wouldn't take that much to re-secure it nor add to its usefulness.

"I'll cache some tools as well since we have so many duplicates. I noticed that you still keep backpacks for you and the children. Will you make up one for me? Those are convenient."

"Already done." When he gave me a surprised look I shrugged. "Habit I suppose. While you are making a list, we should cache some camping gear. And some first aid stuff too though we don't have much of that."

We added a few more things to the growing list including one of the copies of our important papers and we also resolved to cache one of the electronic copies of all of our family media away from the house. This was all on top of our normal work schedule and we fell into bed exhausted each night. I asked, "Is it possible that they will come at night to catch us by surprise?"

"Possible," Mateo agreed. "But unlikely. We just cannot mount a 24-hour watch and still get everything else done. Besides they will be as handicapped as we by the lack of power and light. And sound carries far on the wind these days. If they follow previous patterns that I heard they'll probably want to make a show of their technological and firepower superiority and for that we'll need to see and hear them. They want our gratitude and awe to overwhelm any suspicions we might have. They want to disarm us both figuratively and literally to avoid wasting their own ammo."

"They'll try the honey before the vinegar."

He grinned. "Just so mi Amor. However if we have no other advantage of our own at least they've lost the advantage of surprise." It wasn't a lot to add to our side of the equation but we took it as any advantage was better than none at this point.

Day in and day out we continued with our plan. I made up meal packets that only needed water added to them for reconstituting – vegetable broth, pasta dishes, bean chowder, etc. – and this was the food to go into the PVC pipes. All totaled we planted a baker's dozen of caches, added hidden wood piles in case we needed them, and even built a few fall back positions well hidden amongst the ruins around us. Days turned into a week and then the week into three before it happened. I almost missed it except for the clean up.

I was where I was most of the time, running between the garden and my outdoor kitchen. Mateo left before the children even had finished their breakfast; he worried that rain could be on the way. That morning I was canning peanuts and the ever present mist was thicker than usual. I could barely see to the edges of the yard and all sound was muffled and strange. The first clue I had that something was wrong was a series of rapid pops that I recognized at once as automatic gunfire; even if I hadn't the yelling that accompanied them would have been a dead giveaway. I immediately stopped what I was doing and grabbed the children up and shooed them into the bunker. Nydia knew the drill but I could tell she was frightened. So was I for that matter but it couldn't be helped. I ran back outside to the continued sounds of a gun battle. I took my pot off the Franklin stove and put the fire out, all the while praying to hear or see Mateo and know that he was well and safe.

I ran back in to check on the children and reassure them that Poppy was on his way home though it would have been more truthful to have said that I hoped it was on his way home. Before running back out I grabbed a 20-guage shotgun that wouldn't dump me on my backside if I had to fire it. Back out I went, praying a hedge of protection around Mateo. I couldn't conceive of losing him again yet I knew it was entirely possible. Life was too cruel, a fact I had already experienced, but at least that day I was not its intended target.

Eventually the battle petered to silence. Then two or three single shots followed interrupting the silence before everything fell quiet again. The silence stretched out and out and further out still. Part of me was screaming "enough already, bring it on, let me do something" while another part of me cried "just let it be over." Then through the fog I heard the odd but distinctive squeak-drag-squeak that one of our wagon wheels had started to make when Mateo pulled home something heavy. From the front gate I heard the all clear question which was a cardinal call. If my response had been anything but a Bob White call he would have known something was wrong. He returned the cardinal call once again and I ran to open the gate.

I was shocked to see a man and young girl in the wagon. Both were filthy and injured. Then wasn't the time for questions so I help Mateo who was obviously frazzled to pull the wagon around back.

"Leah, the girl she's … been hurt. I don't want to frighten her. Perhaps you can …?" It was his delicate way of asking if I could ascertain if she had been abused.

The man was barely holding on to consciousness. I admired his perseverance in the face of what must have been great pain as he helped Mateo to place him in a deck chair but I was puzzled by Mateo's gentleness and solicitousness towards him. Since the man was all but helpless and the girl barely more than catatonic I asked Mateo if he would be the one to go inside and bring the first aid supplies after a quick stop to let the children, especially Nydia, know he was home and safe.

"I am certain this enemy is dead and that these two are no danger to us … but in case I am wrong …" I looked at him and nodded then surreptitiously brushed the pocket I kept my gun in to let him know I was armed and on guard.

The man's injuries appeared to be of more immediate concern so I told the girl to sit tight and to let me look at him first. The man said in a quietly sad voice, "I doubt she'll respond. I haven't heard her make an intelligible sound since they kidnapped me, and … and I think … yes, full moon to full moon … it's been a month. If God hadn't sent your husband I most likely would not have seen another sunrise."

I thought that seemed an odd way for a complete stranger to phrase it. I started cleaning his injuries and realized he'd been whipped on at least three different occasions plus he had sundry other wounds, some worse than others. "Mister …?

"Bouvier … Yger Bouvier … that's Y-G-E-R … my parents' idea of a bad joke. A lot of the times people see my name and pronounce it Eager Beaver."

His blathering seemed to be his way of dealing with the pain I was inflicting on his already bruised flesh. "But I turned it to an advantage when I was called to the ministry. Seemed to work great with the kids as an ice breaker."

I raised an eyebrow and gave him my best school marm expression I reserved for class clowns and said, "Seems you try to use it on adults as well."

He gave me a grimace that was supposed to be a smile before admitting, "Guilty as charged."

Before I could ask him another question he passed out. Mateo came out then and I told him what I thought needed doing. "I'm no doctor but I think he should be OK if there's nothing wrong on the inside I can't see. Aside from his wounds he's suffering from exposure and dehydration. He seems a happy go lucky type, at least at first impression. I'm surprised he can still joke after what he's been through. I'm not sure about the girl yet. We can clean them up out here and then make pallets for them in the family room."

A little voice called, "I can help."

I looked over to the lanai and saw Nydia peeping out. I turned to Mateo who answered my unspoken question with, "He's napping."

Looking back at Nydia and remembering she'd helped me with Mateo and Greg I instructed her, "Make the beds like we had them before in front of the fireplace please. Then get a cool pitcher of water and put it on the counter."

"Yes ma'am Nonny," and my little helper was off like a flash.

Mateo took care of the man called Yger and I did my best with the girl but eventually I had to say, "Mateo, take him in please and lay him down. I'm going to take her to the bathroom. This poor kid needs … they abused her and I'm going to try and get her cleaned up and comfortable if I can."

I pray I never witness such human cruelty again in my life. They'd had at her like animals … they were worse than animals in my mind … and the girl needed real medical care, the kind that was far beyond my ability to give her. I wasn't the innocent Nelly that Mateo often thought me, even now. When I was at the inner city school abuse of all kinds stared me in the face from the eyes of the kids I taught every day. My church had a ministry specifically for women that served those that had suffered through divorce or through abuse or both. I volunteered for a while at a pregnancy crisis center as well as a women's shelter. My parents thought it was important that I appreciate the difference between our home and what was out in the world though I don't think my father at least really knew what I was being exposed to. I knew what abuse looked like even if I had never experienced it to any great degree. Hank was a pussy cat compared to what had happened to the girl and I felt both guilty and angry at the same time. It is so hard to hold something so broken and not know how to even begin to put the pieces back together.

That night I learned that Mateo had been working on one of our evacuation points when he'd heard them coming. One look was all it took. They were a motley crew of misfits.

"It was obvious that they were going to try and charm us first. A small group of them were clean and well-dressed; four of them, very neat and militarily attired though in a piecemeal kind of way. Their insignia didn't really match what it was attached to."

Shaking my head I said, "I'm not sure I would have caught that."

"That was the point Leah. Most civilians wouldn't. Frankly the only reason I noticed was because we'd had a couple of people try the same stunt when I was on duty at my first assignment and a wiser, more experienced Sergeant was at the gate with me and spotted the discrepancy. They were trying to break in and get some supplies they thought we were hoarding. Anyway, back to this morning … I knew right away it was a scam. There were another ten men that would remain with the two main vehicles while those four would drive a nice looking jeep up to us."

"Bait and switch," I muttered.

"More like sleight of hand. Distract with the pretty while the real bandits took up their positions and cut off any chance of escape." He sighed. "Leah, I just started shooting. It was an opportunity I was unlikely to get again in the face of such a superior number. They didn't expect it. Then the prisoners - I had not realized there were any at first - added their weight to the battle. When it was done I … ended the misery of those too injured to be saved. Yger and the girl were two of the three survivors to escape with their lives."

"There was a third survivor?!"

"Yes, but he took the jeep and ran in the middle of the battle. Yger said that he saw him get hit but didn't know how badly, one of the prisoners but apparently one too afraid to stand and fight. Tomorrow I'll scout the area a little more and make sure that he is indeed gone."

Quietly so as not to disturb our injured guests I said, "I saw you bring back what I suppose is the weapons they were using but what was everything else you put out in the barn?"

He answered me just as quietly but with some excitement. "One of the trucks had some supplies in it. The packaged items were only generically labeled so I assume they originally came from non-civilian supplies; maybe they raided a convoy. There were also a few things in there – obviously stolen – such as jewelry which they were dismantling. Gold and silver was being melted into ingots. The precious stones were being removed and separated into small boxes by type and size. It looked like an ongoing operation. There were also a couple of rolled up paintings that had been cut from their frames and were in tubes; I assume they are authentic. And there is a radio! I'm not sure how to work it yet but we should be able to power it. The two trucks are toast; bullets tore through the engine compartment and a couple of the tires. If I have to burn them in place I will but they are under tree cover so I may be able to just throw moss and other tree debris on them and if the grass fills back in they should remain hidden from any but a determined searcher. I've already disposed of the bodies by dumping them into a couple of septic tanks."

Worried I asked, "Are you sure that this is the group that belongs with that ultralight we saw?"

At that point the Yger whispered, "Don't mean to be rude and interrupt but figure that's better than eaves dropping and leaving you to worry."

I jumped a little and the man again apologized before continuing. "Guy in the plane went missing two weeks ago. The group used to be twice the size as it was but they fought and split up when the plane didn't come back. The other half took three of the trucks and went off to see if they could find the pilot or plane and salvage anything from it, this group refused to hand over the coordinates for occupied locations that the pilot had located for plundering. There was a fire fight resulting in a couple of dead and injured bad guys but they eventually agreed to go their separate ways leaving things exactly as they had been. You were the last location on the list and the cherry on the sundae if I was able to understand them. The other occupied locations had more people but they weren't near so well set up as you two appear to be. If you don't mind my saying so."

Looking him coolly in the eyes I told him, "You may say so but I would appreciate some discretion if you talk to anyone else."

He grinned, "No kidding. Look, I'm no threat … or at least I don't mean to be one. You've treated me better than I've come to expect people in the Outland to."

"The Outland?" Mateo asked.

"Outland, Red Zones, Hot Zones, No Mans' Land, whatever you want to call the quarantined areas around the bomb site radiuses. The kids have code names for everything it seems but mostly I think it is their way of compartmentalizing and controlling their fears. If you name something then you have some control over a person, place, or object."

Mateo looked at me when I said, "How very tribal." I'd seen the same thing in the highschool where I had taught. You called the kids by their nicknames, their gang names. They didn't like you to call them by their legally given names because they acted like it was a threat somehow. When I noticed the look on the two men's faces I said wearily, "Sorry. A double major in history and education can leave you kind of cynical on occasion."

"Ah," said Yger. "I thought you must've been a teacher of some type. You've got the Spock eyebrow down perfect."

I said, "Excuse me?" But Mateo chuckled in obvious agreement.

Shaking my head I got up and brought some broth for them to eat returning to find Mateo and Yger in deep conversation. As I walked in Mateo explained, "They have three other caches that Yger knows of."

The man in question nodded, "They probably have more but I only know for sure of the three they made after the main group split up. Basically more of the same that they had in the truck. I'm not sure I can tell you where they are at but they had it marked on maps that were kept in the sun visor of the two trucks." He took a sip of his soup and the face he made you would have thought I'd given him haute cuisine. "This … is … sooooo … good. Thank you. I haven't had a square meal in … well, way too long. I really do appreciate this. You didn't have to bring us to your home."

Mateo said, "Oh yes we did. I'm no Lot and this isn't Sodom but I know when hospitality is called for." He turned to see me spooning broth into the girl's mouth. She wasn't eager to eat but she didn't fight me either. Mateo asked Yger, "The girl?"

The man shook his head sadly. "She was already a captive when I was taken from a caravan that was travelling between refugee camps and was already pretty much in the condition you see her in." He added quietly, "All of it. It was sickening to have to bear witness …" Yger shuddered. "As soon as I can get back on my feet I want to take her to the main processing camp. They have trauma specialists there on staff. Major Taglione …"

Surprised enough that I almost spilled the broth I yelped, "Major?! It wasn't that long ago that she was a Captain and before that a Sergeant!"

"You know Major Tag? She's something else isn't she?" Yger smiled in just as great a surprise as mine. "Tough as an old boar but strong enough to be kind when it suits the circumstances better. She's a good foil for Major Dunham who is the type of person that brings to mind chewing on aluminum foil and who wants to have as little to do with the civilians as possible … but contrary to most people's understanding it is mostly because it kills him by inches to see all the suffering and not be able to do much to alleviate it. They both serve under Col. Kilpatrick who answers to who knows at the moment. I don't have the security clearance for information that high up." Yger stopped for a moment and then asked diffidently, as if he'd suddenly become suspicious but was trying not to show it, "How would you have met Major Tag way out here? She's been desk bound for some time now."

I simply said, "It has been a while and we aren't personal friends or anything. How do you know her so well?" It was an answer but gave no details.

"I'm one of the camp chaplains. Mostly I work with the adolescent pods … war orphans, runaways, that sort of thing. I had gone to help another chaplain set up a sub-processing station to help move those that can be moved out of the camps. It's like pushing fledglings out of the nest a little at a time. Too few people want to go once they find out that they'll be on their own. It's the kids and young adults that usually want out when given the opportunity … or that have to be moved out if we find they get credited with too many behavioral incidences … and the Major is trying to get people moved before they get too comfortable and too dependent and become a long term problem for the government."

Mateo asked, "Is that a concern?"

"Dependency? Oh yeah. Too many still have the idea that when everything is over with they'll simply be able to go back to buying what they need from the store, getting money from the bank, a paycheck from a job, that sort of thing. The Major likes to encourage the ones that show gumption first, get them started in a business, trade, that sort of thing. With some cooperation from the higher ups she's been able to get the camp self-sufficient but just barely. They expect this winter to be worse than the last, not because of the weather so much as that people have run through most of the commercially processed foods that were left after the bombs dropped. We need people willing to plan and do the work for their individual families. The government just isn't set up for providing mass support like it is trying to do right now. They are trying to provide support for some of the major manufacturing to restart but that's hit or miss based on resources available. Power is also hit or miss depending on damage to the infrastructure and how much electricity was locally produced. Everything from here on out … well, it looks like you two see it and have a handle on it. It's almost going to be every family for themselves. The main processing camp has three large ag field areas, the smaller processing camps have at least one each for their own needs. The Major, from my understanding of what is being discussed in the staff meetings, wants to set up trade between the camps so that no one camp has to be completely on its own. That way if say Camp 2 has access to blueberries while Camp 3 mainly produces tomatoes or strawberries in quantity, the two camps can come to a mutually beneficial trade agreement. After the camps are taken care of then they'll be encouraged to trade with any locals that don't belong to specific camps or enclaves."

Extremely interested in the concept I asked, "What about grains?"

"That is one of the major problems. The weather change has disrupted food production in all of North America … around the world actually." The girl had finished her broth and I decided to brush and braid her hair so it wouldn't get so many tangles in it. She started to relax and droop as I listened to Yger continue. "A surprising number of countries were dependent on exports of food from the US but as of the first nuclear attack all exports were stopped by Congress even if there had been an agreement or contract. Despite that and taking into account the large population decline, the national food reserves are almost gone and what is left is solely reserved for military and for government continuity purposes. All refugee camps in the country were forced to become self-supporting or watch their people die of starvation. Long supply lines just aren't possible because of the war, lawlessness, lack of fuel, and breakdowns of equipment. There are a lot of no-fly zones so air transport is restricted as well. Florida's weather change hasn't been as totally destructive as what has occurred north of the state line but we still can't grow wheat in any abundance around here. Corn yes, but that was affected by the torrential rains and the late frosts."

I could see he was beginning to tire and looked at Mateo who told him, "Rest now. There's always tomorrow."

"Maybe, maybe not … but if there isn't at least I know today has been a good one."

The girl was also asleep sitting up so I laid her down, covered her nearly emaciated body, and then took care of my own children and husband. For the next three days I rarely left the family room for more than a few minutes at a time. I even slept in there because the girl would sometimes wake clawing at her own face in terror though she never made a sound.

It was the third day and Yger had finally gotten Mateo to concede that he could use some help trimming the Confederate Jasmine that had started to grow into the surrounding trees and out into the yard. I was once again trying to encourage the girl – by this time I realized she was either a developed tweenager or a young teenager – to feed herself with only partial success but it was more than she had done the first two days. A knock on the front door startled me as we rarely used it. I had it open to let the house air out. After telling the girl and my own children to be quiet I cautiously walked towards it. What met my eye sparked a temper that could run as hot as Mateo's.

"What … on … Earth … are … you … doing?!" I picked up the broom from the corner where I had put it after sweeping the front porch and swung it at the red head that squawked and stepped back. "If you do not turn him loose right this …"

A surprised Mateo said, "Leah!" But a hearty laugh from the side of the house stopped me in my tracks. "Well, that answers that."

"Capt. Tag … I mean Major Tag … Taglione … I mean … Oh my goodness. I … oh dear … are these some more of your puppies?"

That only set the woman off again and I swung to look at the red head and recognized the young man named Decker that I hadn't seen since I had been pregnant with Neeno. "Um … sorry Decker."

Instead of being indignant he grinned and nearly shouted, "Hey, you remember me! Major she remembers me!"

"Yes Decker, you're just that hard for the ladies to forget. Now fetch Ricker and let's see if we can put Eager here back together enough to transport him back to base." As Mateo was released from where he'd been held with several guns pointed at him Tag explained, "Sorry about that. This is the first time I've been here and seen a man about the place."

"Speaking of," I interrupted still a little shook and irritated at what had greeted me. "What happened to being chained to a desk?"

She grimaced. "I escaped. That's my normal position. Actually I was on my way back from a meeting of other refugee camp commanders and thought I would swing by here to see how you were doing. Imagine my surprise first to see Eager Beaver who's been listed as MIA and then to see a man in your yard claiming to be your husband."

"Oh good grief, he doesn't really go by that name does he?" I asked rolling my eyes.

"Oh yeah," she laughed. "The kids love him. Speaking of …?"

I turned and called Nydia to come to the door but she surprised me by bringing not only Neeno but leading the nameless girl by the hand. "Nonny, the girl was scared."

"Oh dear," I muttered and went over.

Mateo and Yger must have explained the situation because Capt … no Major Tag now … came over and gently looked the girl over. We were all silent when Decker came over to ask Tag something only to stop and stare at the girl before saying, "Hey … I think I know that girl. I … I think she is from Camp 14."

Tag looked at Decker, "How sure is your think?"

"Pretty sure ma'am. I can check the log of missing persons. Does she have any birthmarks or distinguishing features?"

I said, "She has a strawberry birthmark in the center of her back."

He nodded and ran off. Major Tag said, "We lost nearly half of Camp 14 a couple of months back. They were raided … sucker punched really … by a group claiming to be from the UN. It doesn't matter how many times you warn some people, they'll believe whatever it is they want to believe." She noticed my significant look at Mateo. "Uh huh and I've given my husband a look like that more than a time or two. Perhaps … Mateo was it? … perhaps you would care to talk to Lt. Jenkins … that tall, skinny bean pole over there that barely looks old enough to shave … and Sgt. Weatherstone … now there's a real man for you … and apprise them of the local situation." I could tell from Mateo's carefully blank look that he was still reserving judgment on Maj. Tag though he did as she asked. I suspect however that it was more because he wanted to pump them for information rather than for getting on the lady's good side.

After he walked away Tag asked me, "Everything OK?"

I looked at her a little surprised that she would need to ask. "Of course … well beyond the obvious I mean. Why, what's up?"

She sighed and then leaned against the column on the front porch. I asked her if she wanted to sit but she said, "No thank you. Do way too much of that lately or so it feels. I asked because … when soldiers come back from war they sometimes have a challenging time reintegrating with their families. Your husband was away quite some time, you … you learned to live without him, do things without his help, a baby was born."

Beginning to understand I told her honestly, "It was … challenging … at first but more because Mateo had lived so long just to get home that his health failed him for a bit. He had a hard time believing he had actually made it at first, made worse by the fact that when he first got here … well, it wasn't obvious I was still home. It shook him up. Shook me up for my prayers to be answer to be honest. There was some adjusting to do but more for me than him. But he's been a good sport about it all."

"A good sport?!" she chuckled. "I don't think I've ever heard it described quite like that before."

"Honestly Tag, we're fine. We're actually better than fine. I needed him home, it was obvious. I couldn't keep going the way I was going without some help. And it was obvious he needed me as well. We rebuilt from there. With no undue influence from outside people who might try to lay their expectations on us we've managed with only a few bumps along the way."

She smiled and muttered sotto voice, "Oh good grief, a couple of romantics." With a larger smile to let me know she was kidding she then asked, "What about supplies? Your set up is even sweeter than it was before … like the covered rows by the way and I'll likely steal the idea so there … but the weather hasn't exactly cooperated."

I thought and then said what the heck, "Grains and sweetenings is what we are the worst off with. We can make do or substitute for everything but that. We've seen a few deer – Mateo even brought one down – and we have some pigs that we'll slaughter once it really turns cold again. We've got gator until they hibernate or whatever it is they do. For eggs we have geese and ducks – tell your puppies to watch out because they can be more vicious than watch dogs – though I would love some chickens. Milk is a problem but I suppose it is for everyone at this point since you can't exactly go pick it up at the corner market. The pecan trees don't look like they are going to produce this year so that's out. But we're managing. Like I said it is mostly grains and sweetenings that worry me long term. The only thing we've been able to replace in those two areas are corn … and you can see the challenges of that for a family of any size plus the issue of grinding it into meal … and we've found a few stands of sugar cane for the kids to suck on as a treat."

She nodded, "We've got the same issues at the camp. Everyone wants wheat and most of the wheat crop in this country has been destroyed by the weather, compromised by radiation, or intentionally sabotaged by our enemies. What wheat remains is precious and they've set aside as much as they can as seed for next season's crop with the remainder …"

The disgusted look on her face that I saw before she tried to hide it had me saying, "Or has been designated for the elite and the have nots will just have to make do."

She sighed and said, "I'm not in a position where I can confirm that either way. Another fun fact is that the sugar cane crop down in south Florida has taken a beating. The change in weather patterns brought some pretty ferocious storms that flooded fields and other stuff I didn't get into. We've been replacing it with beet sugar when we can get it from the north, honey, and something called sorghum but the days of white processed cane sugar are over for a while. I'm surprised you didn't mention tea or coffee."

"I never was much of a coffee drinker and Mateo doesn't complain though I know he misses it. For tea I just grow mint and chamomile and things like that."

She blinked at me. "You make your own tea."

I rolled my eyes, "I grow it but it isn't the caffeinated, high test stuff that you are referring to."

"I'm not talking about that. Seriously, you can make your own teas."

"Unless you've got a black thumb you can too," I told her laughing a bit at her incredulous expression. "It's not magic, you just need to know which herbs make the best tea. I like the mints and the lemony flavored ones or chai tea is pretty good when I really need something special. Or I'll add some dried orange rind to …"

"No … no more. My head is going to explode. Do you know what people would give to have that back at my office? Drinking hot water just isn't cutting it for most of us. It keeps us warm and hydrated but that's about it."

Tag was called away by the men that Mateo was speaking with and I went over to where Ricker the medic and a woman were examining the no-name girl. "Is she … well all right is a stupid question but is she …?"

The man sighed and said, "Under the circumstances it looks like you've done everything for her that can be done for her until she gets to the base hospital. The Chaplain said that he wants to take her back with us. Do you object to that?"

"No. Decker said that he thought he recognized her and if she can be reunited with her family that would at least be something for the poor kid. Um … look … do you have a moment?"

He stepped away with me and I told him what I'd seen while I had bathed her. He nodded. "I suspected as much given what the Chaplain said. We have a pretty good team on base for trauma cases. Unfortunately they've been seeing way too much of this kind of thing."

At loose ends once the medic went back to the girl I turned to find Nydia still sitting on the porch and I went over to her. "I'm sorry Baby Doll. Do you feel left out?"

"No. Poppy is doing business and you were just taking care of the girl. She's bad hurt in her heart isn't she?"

"Yes," I said choked up at the childish simplicity of those words.

"She's worse than Poppy was. Will she go away like Uncle Greg?"

I sighed. "She's going away but not like Uncle Greg. She's going where there are some people that can help her deal with her hurts."

Nydia look at me seriously and said, "Good. Maybe she can find someone like you and Poppy to take care of her."

"Now that sounds like a good idea." Tag had come up with Mateo and the other men he had been speaking with.

Mateo had a look on his face that drew my attention. "Leah, Major Taglione would like for you to explain your gardening methods to one or two of their civilian ag specialists."

I looked around searching for the catch. "And where are these ag specialists?"

Mateo's lips twitched. "They plan on being back in a week with a crew. They would stay five to seven days, plenty of time for you to play la profesora and teach them what they need to know."

"Ooooo kay, who let that particular cat out of the bag?" I looked at Mateo with an arched eyebrow that had the group trying not to laugh but he just looked completely innocent yet unrepentant at the same time which made me roll my eyes and shake my head.

He came over and kissed the top of my bandana covered head and said, "I'll leave you to discuss it with your Major Tag but it is still your decision. If you do not feel up to it …" His open ended statement let everyone know that he would abide by my choice and support it fully. In his eyes though I could see that he was wheeling and dealing and would like me to consider it.

I nodded so that he would know I understood and then turned to Tag and asked, "What all would this visit entail? Would I need to feed them?"

"No," she assured me. "My goal is to make this a mutually beneficial meeting. An exchange of information and good will that could lead to a trade partnership down the road."

"What about quartering?"

"They'll have a hard-side trailer. Technically the Ag guys are civilians but since they'll be traveling with a military unit we don't want to get in trouble with the 3rd Amendment. I got enough of the Constitutionalists breathing down my neck without adding to it unnecessarily." At my surprised look she snorted in a most unladylike manner. "I don't blame them, agree with them to be honest, but they don't make my job any easier. Most of them are OK but there are a few that are a pain in the backside and don't know as much as they think they know; they interpret it to their benefit rather than to the intent of the Founders. They've caused as much trouble for their own people as they have for mine. But even the worst of that lot is better than some of the people who think they are the next generation of leaders. If I have to deal with one more so-called community activist I'm liable to forget and just nail all of those agitators to the outside wall."

You could hear the real disgust and anger in her voice and I was thankful that I wasn't walking in her boots. Managing my own household was enough of a challenge thank you very much. Fifteen minutes later they were heading out and both Mateo and I had a lot to plan and discuss.


End file.
